


The Man From U.N.C.L.E. - When In Rome

by ivyscribbles (all_choseny)



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Assertive Illya, Bickering, Drama, F/M, Falling In Love, Fanfiction, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Gaby, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Mystery, Pre-Relationship, Protective Illya, Slow Burn, Solo in love, Spy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2019-10-04 04:18:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17297630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_choseny/pseuds/ivyscribbles
Summary: The infamous cat burglar Natalia Povlovsky, better known at "The Cat" has been stealing a concentrated set of Faberge Eggs around the globe for Cuba. The team from U.N.C.L.E. suspect there's more that meets the eye and discover that hidden in one of the eggs is a Nuclear code. In the wrong hands it could destroy the United States. Solo, Illya, and Gabby team up again in this jet setting adventure to catch a thief and thwart Cuba's deadly plans.





	1. Checking In

Solo checked his reflection one last time. He was alone in his suite while Illya and Gabby... well, did Illya and Gabby things. He was never sure with those two. Sometimes they ran hot and cold. Either way, they had one night to become acquainted with Rome and then it was business as usual. And by business, he meant another dangerous expedition that was bound to get them into trouble. Solo thumbed through the file Waverly had given them before they left Germany. The trio had only been a team for six short months and out of all the missions, this was his holy grail. The moment he read the report, Solo was overcome with a sense of excitement that he hadn't felt in a very long time.

He stared down at the photo of Natalia Pavlovsky. It was the first image of the elusive thief that had been captured of her in a decade. They had both worked during the same time, but he had never had the pleasure of making her acquaintance. It appeared that he would now. It was a pity that it was under these circumstances. Solo was sure that in another life, such a meeting would have been very interesting. Before his capture and stint with the CIA, He'd known her only as "The Cat." No one knew whether The Cat was male or female. They only knew that she was best. Well, second best. But in all her years in the profession, Solo never imagined that she was a thief for hire. Most cat burglar's preferred to work under their own terms.

According to the file Waverly had given them, she was working for the Cuban government. Over the course of the last twelve months, their intel placed her in the island country several times. There was also a trail of missing Jewels in her wake. Solo suspected that some of the "jobs" were red herrings used to throw everyone off her scent. She was after something more valuable than pieces of clunky jewelry for a Cuban dictator.

Solo casually made his way over to the wet bar in his room to pour a drink when his hotel phone rang. He waited a beat before answering.

"Solo," Waverly's crisp British voice came through the airways.

"Waverly. I've barely been in Rome five minutes and you're already checking on me."

"Well, I had to be sure that you're staying focused on the task at hand."

A smirk twitched at the corner of Solo's lips. Of course, Waverly would be a nervous wreck. There was always a possibility that he would jump ship at any moment. And if there was ever a mission to tempt him, this was it.

"I assure you that I am focused. Relax, Waverly. If I were going to slip away, I'd have done it years ago."

There was a pause on the other side of the line. "Well, none the less, I wanted to make sure that you understood the objective."

Bored. "Get the girl. Stop a nasty explosion from destroying the world. Got it."

"Your oversimplified summation of the mission doesn't give me much confidence, Solo."

"My oversimplified summation is exactly straight to the point. Like I've said since you gave us this job, assign it to another team if you don't think I can handle it."

Another long pause. Solo waited for Waverly to say something. There was no other team as good as his. Grant it Illya was a deranged psychopath and Gabby was a little too green, but their mix made a perfect cocktail. That's why Waverly had given them this mission even though he worried about Solo's ability to stay honest. It was tempting. Very tempting.

"I do think you can handle it," Waverly said, finally. "As a team. So, don't go off getting any ideas, Solo. I'm watching you."

Solo glanced around his hotel suite. Of course, he was. He was always watching them. "Then I'll have to remember to give you an interesting show."

He heard his boss make a tiny indignant sound before the phone went dead. Solo chuckled to himself. In all honesty, Waverly had nothing to worry about. Napoleon would never admit it to anyone, but he rather enjoyed his work. How many people got to say they were a "secret agent."He wagered not too many. While the call of his previous profession was tempting, he wouldn't go back to it any time soon.

++++

"How was your evening in Rome?" Solo asked his teammates the next morning over breakfast. They had gathered on his balcony for room service and an ocean view.

Gaby shifted in her seat and shot a quick glance at Illya. "Uneventful," she answered around a sip of her mimosa.

Solo studied the duo across from him with a raised brow. There was always something up with those two. He wondered if the tension between them would lighten if they would just hop in the sack and get it over with.

"It was a bit damp out," Illya said in his thick Russian accent.

"Hmmm yes, it can get quite wet...here." Solo took a sip of his coffee to hide the smirk that threatened to give him away.

"So, now that we've had a chance to review the file, do any of you know how we're going to approach this. I want to at least pretend like we actually know what we're doing this time," Gaby said.

"She is Russian. I think I should take the lead. I know how to handle Russian women," Illya said.

"Slow down, Peril. You may know your way around the red curtain, but I'm fluent in complicated acquisitions. I've known this woman for years."

Gaby lifted a skeptical brow. "You know her? This Cat?"

"The Cat... and it's more like I know of her."

Illya made a scoffing noise. "Which means you don't know her."

"In my former line of business, we were familiar. I might have missed her a few times. But I'm sure she's heard of me."

"Then it might be best for Illya to take the lead then. We don't want our cover blown."

"That won't be a problem."

Illya shook his head. "Typical American machismo. Tell me, Cowboy, if she knows you, how do you suppose you'll keep the secret in secret identity?"

"Well, maybe I won't have a secret identity. Perhaps, I've come out of a very long retirement."

Gaby leaned closer. "That could work. Two thieves after the same prize."

"Or it could go horribly wrong and we all die." Illya flashed a sarcastic smile at his table mates.

"Your optimism is refreshing," Solo said."If I approach her as one thief to another, she may be willing to work with me. We find what she's after before her and we save the world...again." He brushed non-existent crumbs from his hands and grinned.

"Alright, then who am I?"

Solo looked Gaby over. "You'll be my mark for the night. So, be sure to wear something big and gaudy. Peril, you already know what your role is."

Illya snuck a glance over at Gabby. Whenever they were on a mission, they were always thrown together. "Well, fiance, I suppose we must get engaged again."

Gaby pulled in a breath. "Maybe one day you two will be engaged while I take the lead."

Solo's brow furrowed, and he scrunched up his nose as he looked at his partner in bewilderment. Illya's face darkened at the idea. "In Russia we-"

"I'll take the lead," Solo cut Illya off before he said anything psychotic. "You and Illya will play Mr. and Mrs. Polov, ghastly rich Russian newlyweds here on your honeymoon. And let me handle the heavy lifting. No pun intended."


	2. Be Cool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solo grabs the attention of "The Cat" and strikes a deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Story is still unbeta'd. If anyone would like to be my beta, I can reward you in cyber cookies. :)

The night was warm as party-goers filtered in and out of the Italian art deco home. Solo could hear the jazzy sounds of “The Girl from Ipanema” playing softly in the background. He casually held his invitation in his hand as he waited. The security guard took a quick glance at the card, found his name on the guest list and let him. Illya and Gaby were already inside. Waverly had gotten their invites earlier in the day. Solo glanced down at the name on his invitation. Tonight, for one night only, he was a chap named Nick Dempsey. Somewhere on the other side of the doors, the real Nick Dempsey was checking his person for an invitation he swore he placed in his breast pocket.

The house was dazzling. The guest list was beautiful, and the food and drink were choice. Solo always enjoyed this part of the operation. He moved through the crowd with ease, scanning for potential marks. He was filled with a bit of nostalgia as he thought about his exciting criminal career. Tonight, he gave himself a pass to loosen up and go with the flow. If this mission needs the old Napoleon, then it will have the old Napoleon, he thought. Among the glittering dresses and tailored suits, Solo spotted his partners standing together. He couldn’t help but to roll his eyes. At least Gaby managed to look the part. She spared no expense with her set of chunky “jewels.” They almost looked too fake. Solo hoped that Natalia wouldn’t notice. He planned on lifting them when he had her attention. 

Solo made his way toward the couple and flashed his most debonair smile. “Good evening. I couldn’t help but notice what a fine set of jewels you have.” He spoke low enough so that no one passing by could hear them. 

“She’s watching us,” Gaby said between a smile as Solo took her hand and kissed it. Off went her ring. 

“Good, that’s what we want.” He spoke between clenched teeth. The longer they spoke the more opportunities Solo had to lift her costume jewelry. 

“You’re lingering, Cowboy. I know tonight you’re nothing but a thief. But that doesn’t mean you stop behaving like a gentleman.” There was a hint of jealousy in his voice. 

Solo lifted a brow. Since when did Illya give him advice on etiquette? Half the time he behaved himself like a wild boar. Solo’s brow furrowed as he looked at the other man. “I’m always a gentleman.”

“Just be cool,” Gaby warned. She turned away from Solo and led her fake husband to the dance floor. 

“By the way, that tie jacket combo…” Solo shook his head in disapproval. 

He turned toward the bar and was pleased to see Natalia was still watching him. Good. He’d gotten her attention. Solo made his way toward her and ordered a drink at the bar. 

“I’ll take a whiskey neat. And please, make one for the lady.”

Natalia placed her glass on the bar-top and lifted a brow. “That’s quite alright. I prefer not to drink on the job.”

Napoleon eyed the glass she just put down and raised his own brow. “Is that so?”

“Seltzer water,” she explained. “Most people in our profession know better, Mr…”

He flashed her a gamely smile. “Dempsey. And you are?”

“I think you know who I am.” 

Solo gave her quick, shrewd once over. She was dressed to kill and carried herself with such poise. He was surprised to hear only the faintest of a Russian accent. It appeared that her time on the other side of the wall had loaned her an ambiguous one. 

“I haven’t the faintest clue who you are or what you’re talking about. I only came to have a drink with a beautiful woman.”

Natalia’s lips lifted into a soft smirk. “Really? So, you weren’t stealing costume jewelry from that young couple a few seconds ago.”

Solo had the foresight to look scandalized as he gazed at Natalia. He blinked a few times as if confused. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Natalia held up the sapphire ring he’d taken from Gaby. Oh, she was good, he thought. “Then how would you explain this? Unless you have a taste for women’s cheap knickknacks.” 

Solo flashed her another smile. “Alright. You got me. You’ve learned my deep, dark secret.”

Natalia slipped the ring on her finger and admired it. “It is lovely but as fake as rhinestones. Shouldn’t you know better, Mr. Solo?”

He was taken aback. “What did you call me?”

“By your name of course. You are Napoleon Solo, are you not?”

Solo cleared his throat. “And if I told you I was?”

“Then I’d say, this meeting must be serendipitous. I thought you were retired… or dead.”

Solo chuckled softly and finished his drink. “I certainly am not.” 

“Well, your years away must have made you rusty. The Solo I heard about would be able to tell the difference between baubles and real jewels.”

“I’m flattered. Truly. Who are you by the way?” He played along. 

“Natalia Povlovsky.” She waited for a beat to see if her name rang any bells. Solo looked incredulous. 

“I’m sorry. Should I know that name?”

The woman dipped her head and smiled. “You might know me as The Cat.”

This time he gave her the proper reaction. “The infamous Cat. What brings you here? And I don’t recall us ever meeting.”

“Probably the same thing that’s brought you here. And we haven’t. I just recognized you from your face being plastered all over Interpol. I suppose they’ve sent you here to bring me in, so I could join the club?” 

Solo kept it cool. She was treading dangerously close to the truth. Beauty and brains. He liked it. “Interpol? I don’t work for Interpol.”

“Then an affiliate. They’ve been trying to get me for months. What better trick than to send a ghost?”

Solo chuckled again. “Is that what they call us retirees?”

“Retired?”

“Yes. Retired. Happily, until a few days ago.”

Natalia looked intrigued. “And what brings you out of retirement?”

“Probably the same thing that brought you here this evening.”

“No.” Natalia shook her head. “This is mine.”

“Ah, let me guess… you saw it first?”

“Yes. Precisely why. Is there no honor among thieves, Mr. Solo?”

Solo turned his head and looked to the side. “Has there ever been?” 

“I’m not going to let you take this from me.” 

“I had no plans to. I’ll just get to it first.” 

Natalia’s eyes darkened with frustration. “And what makes you think you can? I’m not the one who’s been twiddling my thumbs for half a decade.”

Solo smirked. “No, you haven’t.” He held up the diamond bracelet she’d been wearing on her left wrist. 

She let out a long sigh. “Fine. What do you propose we do?”

“Team up. The egg is heavily guarded. One of us can take the front and the other the back.” His words were rife with innuendo. 

“This is a one-person job.”

“True. But we could run the risk of one of us getting to it before the other or not getting it at all. So, at least this ensures at least half.”

“Sixty-Forty.”

“Fifty-Fifty.”

“This was my job. Sixty-forty. Final offer.”

Solo rolled his eyes. “Deal.”

“I’m glad I could do business with you, Mr. Solo.” Natalia stood up. “The egg will be moved in a day for a final appraisal. Until then I want to make sure that you’re here for the reason’s you say you are.”

“Scouts honor.”

“No. If you're part of an Interpol retrieval team, I need to know. Tomorrow night. The Galleria. There’s a little jewel there that I’ve always wanted. Help me get it and we’ll move forward with the other.”

Napoleon smiled. “Sounds like fun.”


	3. Is This How You Do It In Russia?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Illya and Gaby observe Solo on the sidelines and get in a little schmoozing of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Story is now Beta'd (but any mistakes are all mine) 
> 
> Special thanks to my Beta Reader Diadema for her kind offer to proof my fic! I appreciate your help :)

The house was massive. It had its own ballroom. Gaby couldn’t help but stare in awe at the high ceilings and marbled floors. The hall where everyone gathered was outfitted with a dance floor for guests to enjoy. People mingled with each other while a live band played on a temporary stage. Gaby grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and sipped the cool, bubbly liquid while she looked around. _Fancy_ , she thought to herself. Of course it was. Her eyes took in all the smartly dressed party-goers as they laughed and danced together. She imagined that most of the guests were people of means. The room smelled like money, both old and new.

Illya and Gaby furtively watched Solo and Natalia from the dance floor. It had taken Gaby a few minutes to realize just how much of her costume jewelry Solo had stolen from her. She wouldn’t admit it to him—his ego was big enough for them all—but she was impressed. She hadn’t felt him take her ring at all. “I want to hear what they are saying,” she said, looking up at Illya.

The Russian operative moved with her awkwardly as they danced. He was unsure of where to place his hands, so he held her in a strange waltz that seemed out of place with the jazzy ambiance. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves. Remember, we were just robbed by Cowboy.”

He was right. They needed to keep their distance while Solo worked his real mark. Their robbery was only a means of getting the Cat’s attention. Gaby studied Natalia shrewdly. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she liked Natalia’s style already. The woman was keeping Napoleon on his toes. Gaby could tell by his body language. The cool Napoleon Solo, serial womanizer had finally met his match.

Gaby pursed her lips and strained her ears so she could hear. It wasn’t working. Her curiosity was getting the better of her. She untangled herself from Illya’s artless embrace and did a little two-step until she was closer to Solo and Natalia. Illya hesitated in his spot before joining her.

Illya glanced nervously around the ballroom. He noticed an older couple watching them a few feet away. Their unskillful dancing was beginning to attract some looks. Not good. “I told you not to draw attention to ourselves,” he said, taking her back into his arms. “I am the man. Let me handle this.”

Gaby lifted a well-sculpted brow. “Oh, really? And is _this_ how men hold women in Russia?” She looked down at their awkward stance. “You don’t want us to draw attention, but you aren’t holding me like a man who is here with his new bride.” Gaby unhitched her hands from Illya’s and placed them on her hips, curling his fingers around her slender frame. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed closer to him. “There. Now you look like a man in love.”

Illya swallowed hard. They were close now. So close, he could smell her perfume. It was the scent he had picked for her when they went shopping for their cover. He enjoyed dressing her. He enjoyed having her as his woman…even if it were only temporary. Illya continued to clutch her hips as she inched them closer to Solo. He was two left feet and stiff shoulders, but Gaby was soft and limber as she danced in time to the music. Illya fought to keep his attention on Solo and not the rhythm of her body, the warmth of her through the fabric. He squinted his eyes as if to help him hear better. He could only pick up bits and pieces of the conversation over the sound of the music. He thought he heard something about a jewel. That wasn’t the mission. _What the hell was Cowboy up to?_

“She’s very pretty,” Gaby said, breaking his concentration.

“She is Russian. Of course she is pretty.” There was nothing but pride in his voice. Gabby’s eye twitched at his compliment. 

“We’ll have to keep a closer eye on Solo. You know how he is around beautiful women. We can’t let him get distracted.”

Illya made a low grunting noise deep in his chest. Finally, someone else who noticed that Solo made a terrible spy. “Yes. The way he was all over you earlier.” His eyes grew dark with the memory. 

Gaby let out a snort. “You aren’t jealous, are you, Illya?”

“Of course not,” he answered quickly. A little too quickly.

 _Jealous? Him jealous? Of Cowboy? Never._ He was almost offended by the suggestion, but the playful gleam in her eyes softened the blow. He was starting to get used to her sense of humor. He liked it.

“He does have a very pretty face. Some women find it attractive.” Her eyes glittered. “And he also looks very important in his suits.” She gave him a knowing smile.

She was teasing him now. Her words reminded him of the first night they met in Berlin. He recalled everything she said to Cowboy when he was listening in from afar. And he _wasn’t_ going to pull out her nails…maybe. No, he couldn’t have done that to her. He wasn’t a barbarian. He was Russian spy. Things were done a certain way in Russia. Illya looked down at his partner and frowned disapprovingly. "His jawline is made of glass, and his suits are..." he couldn't find anything negative to say about the American’s wardrobe. "Not my style," he finished lamely. "But if you like weak-jawed men with questionable taste..."

"Relax. I was only speaking for some women. My taste runs a little differently." She pressed closer against him.

Illya's face grew warm. Was she still teasing him? She felt soft against him. Everything about her was soft at the moment. Yes, she was, but this was a different kind of playfulness. If only it was real. There were times when they were alone when things might have taken a turn. He kept a running catalogue of all their near misses. Perhaps she was waiting for him to initiate things between them. He could ask her on a date. A real one. Professionalism be damned. _I’m starting to sound like, Cowboy._ "She's leaving," he said, breaking the moment.

“What?” There was a hint of disappointment in her voice. Gaby peered around Illya's tall frame. She watched as the woman known as The Cat slipped away seamlessly through the crowd of guests. Gaby blinked her eyes. One minute she was there and the next, she was gone. She understood now how she had earned the name. Only a cat could come and go so stealthily. Solo remained at the bar and finished the drink he'd been nursing before placing a few, crisp bills on the counter top. He straightened his tie and jacket and stood up to leave. Gaby made eye contact with him briefly. He gave a slight shake of his head, and she frowned. What was he up to? He was supposed to mingle for a little while longer. She watched as Solo made his way toward the same direction Natalia went in just moments before. Illya and Gaby exchanged a questioning look between them as they watched Solo deviate from the plan. 

"Let's follow him and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," Illya said. Gaby took a step, and Illya held up a hand to stay her. "Give it 30 seconds."

He lifted his wrist to look down at his watch. It was gone. _Son of a b—"_ Let's go." His words were tight. Illya grabbed Gaby's hand and pulled her through the party. 

"Slow down! You're going to make me fall." She stumbled behind him in her new shoes.

"We need to catch up, or we'll lose him." Illya stared straight ahead, keeping his eyes on Solo’s receding back. He looked down at Gaby for a moment and realized she was struggling to keep up. _Myshka!_ Little mouse, he thought tenderly. He’d almost forgotten how tiny she was. Illya slowed down his stride to keep in time with her short legs. 

“Here,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist. His voice was brisk, but his touch was gentle. Gaby looked up at him in appreciation. He was glad when she didn’t brush his hand away and bit back a barely contained smile. “He is heading back to hotel. Come. We can still get to him in time.”

“What did you see?” she asked. “To make you rush like that. What happened?” 

Illya’s jaw clenched as the anger came flooding back."He stole my watch. That was not part of the plan." 

"He'll give it back," she murmured, comforting. Gaby knew how much that watch meant to Illya, understood now why he had hurried. Determined, she picked up her own pace. He looked at her in surprise, and she nodded, slipping her arms in his and beginning to tug him forward.“Let’s get back to the hotel.”

***** 

They made it back to their room shortly after Solo reached his. As soon as the door was closed, Illya began to rummage through his things while Gaby sat down in an armchair and massaged her feet. "What’s the plan? Listen in and hope he spills his guts out to us?” She gave him an exasperated look. “He is _alone_ , isn’t he?”

Illya swung around with the listening device in hand and scowled. “You don’t know that. _This_ is safer option.”

“So you’ve told me.”

He huffed. Whatever progress he thought they had made earlier had vanished during their drive home. It was not _his_ fault that she refused to see reason. “We are not risking our cover over him unless we have to.”

Gaby waved him off with a bored flick of her hand. "Well, go ahead then. Turn it on. And maybe if he does need our help, you can telephone him.” 

Illya rolled his eyes and walked around the room until he found the right frequency. Even Gaby leaned in closer to listen when the burst of static cleared. _Nothing_. It was quiet in the room above them. 

"Maybe he's sleeping."

Illya lifted a brow. "Already? 

Gaby shrugged and resumed massaging her feet. "We saw him walk in. It’s not like he’s robbing the city blind." 

“Only me.”

As if on cue, a voice came through over the speaker. "I know you’re listening, Peril. Might as well join me for a nightcap since I’m guessing you have questions." 

Gaby stood to her feet. "I could use another drink." Illya continued to stand frozen in the center of the room. Gaby sighed. She gently took the device from him and placed it on a nearby end table. He still hadn’t moved. Gaby looked up into his pale blue eyes and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “And I think you could use one too.” “

When they arrived upstairs, Solo was already in his bathrobe enjoying a glass of scotch. He flashed them a smooth smile and ushered them into his suite. 

"Where is my watch?" Illya demanded. His fingers flexed at his sides.

Solo blinked a few times and looked at him incredulously. "What watch?"

Illya's face darkened, and he clenched his fists. "The only watch I own. My father's watch. You _stole_ it," he accused. 

“ _I_ did no such thing, Peril. Our Russian cat burglar on the other hand…” He gave him a smile, sardonic but friendly. “You really should watch where you’re going.” 

“ _Tell me_ that you got it back,” he grit out, “or I _swear_ that I will—”

“Relax. Now, let me see. I’m _sure_ I put it around here somewhere." He began patting his chest before snapping his fingers. 

Illya watched Solo walk over to his closet and pick around his suit. He didn’t remember bumping into the cat burglar. She was good. A thief but good. Good Russian ingenuity. A few minutes later, Solo held the watch up just arms’ distance away from him. Illya snatched it away checking it possessively for any damage before fastening it back on his wrist. 

"I was going to give it back, comrade.I must say, though, it did come in handy.”

Illya glowered at him. “How so.”

Solo shrugged. “It gave me a chance to get one up on her. Show her we’d make a good team. Especially considering that little _fiasco_ you two nearly caused.” He waved a hand toward the costume jewelry laying on the coffee table “I guess those were a little too obvious, don’t you think?” He gave Illya a pointed look, but the Russian merely grunted in response.

“But did it work?” Gaby prompted. “You looked very cozy together.”

Solo’s lips spread into a satisfied smile. “It worked. The egg won’t be available for another day. So in the meantime, I’ll be on another job. Nothing you two have to worry about,” he said casually. Solo walked over to the wet bar and started fixing Gaby a brandy neat.

“Another job? What do you mean _another_ job?” 

Solo sighed. “She thinks I’m INTERPOL. And despite all my reassurances, she doesn’t trust me.“So, I need to make a little detour.” 

“Which means?” Gaby asked as she took her drink from him. “That I’ll have to gain her trust.”

“And how do you propose to do this, Cowboy?”

Another sigh. “I’ll have to help her steal a jewel she’s been eyeing at the Galleria Museum. It’ll be easy. An hour tops. Once she sees that I’m willing to put my neck on the line again, she’ll be more inclined to…play ball, so to speak.”

“We’ll need to talk to Waverly about this.”

“No. This is a…delicate situation. If we tell Waverly, he might call it off, and my partnership with Natalia is already fragile enough to begin with. Besides, he said we needed to get this egg back at all costs. What’s a million-dollar diamond for our trouble?”

Illya let out a deep breath through his nose. This was turning into a disaster. He shook his head. He could have thought of a better way to get to the egg if _he_ had been given point on this mission. “What’s the plan?”

“I’m meeting The Cat tomorrow morning to discuss the finer details. Which means _you two_ need to stay out of sight. She can’t see any of us together. Especially not after tonight.”

“I think we can manage,” Gaby said, walking over to Illya.

“Oh, and one more thing.” He turned away from his partners and retrieved the Soviet-made bug from under the lip of the bar. “Try to be a bit less obvious next time. You’re making it too easy for me.”


	4. Mutual Partnership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Napoleon and Natalia partner up to steal the most exclusive diamond in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my Beta reader diadema!
> 
> *story beta'd but any mistakes are mine.

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=s0zf5w)

Solo assumed that Natalia was watching him, so he decided to lay low at his hotel. At noon he received an unexpected call from the front desk. Illya and Gaby were keeping watch over the whereabouts of the egg—it was the reason they were back in Rome after all. That only left one person. Solo couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face. He did admire her style.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Solo.” Natalia’s voice came across the line. It was sultry yet refined and loaned itself to all sorts of fantasies. He liked the cool, relaxed sound of it in his ear. No one would have ever guessed that they were about to rob a world-renowned museum of a priceless gemstone. She spoke as if it were nothing but an ordinary Tuesday afternoon.

Solo straightened his dark jacket in the mirror. “Ms. Povlovsky, how did you manage to track me down?” 

“Little eyes are always watching,” she said in a sing-song voice.

“How resourceful. May I ask to what do I owe the pleasure?” Teasing now.   
He knew exactly why she called but enjoyed playing cat and mouse. It made things more interesting. He also suspected that Natalia was no stranger to the game either. He imagined in her line of business she played it often and played it well, wielding her charms with all the ease and grace of her nom de plume.

She laughed before answering. “Your memory is short, Mr. Solo. I do recall we had an arrangement.”

“Ah, yes. The arrangement. We never did discuss the details.”

Solo had been so busy studying the curves of her face last night, that he hadn’t bothered to go into detail about their “job.” He had to remember to not let her pretty face distract him from the main objective. He was better than this. But somehow Natalia had managed to throw him off his game.

That’s why you will meet me at my hotel, and we shall talk in person. Be here in twenty.”

Solo took down the name of her hotel and headed straight for the lobby. He penned a quick note for Illya and Gaby and left it with the concierge: insurance in case Natalia decided to pull some funny business with him. He knew firsthand how shifty and ruthless people with their set of talents could be - especially a woman. From personal experience, Solo knew that the “fairer sex” made for some of the most calculating adversaries. 

Solo flagged down a cab and headed straight for The Plaza Hotel. Natalia was waiting for him downstairs wearing a silk scarf around her head and a pair of Givenchy sunglasses. He smiled approvingly at his companion for the day. Over the last few months, he had spent far too much time staring at polyester blends and bad clothing combinations. She was a welcomed distraction.

“You look lovely,” he said, kissing her hand.

“And you look like you’re on the prowl.” Natalia leaned back and took him in from head to toe. Solo couldn’t see her eyes, but he imagined they started from his shoes (designer) and traveled up to the top of his head (meticulously styled). “I recognize that naked hunger in your eyes, Mr. Solo. I imagine that five years has been a very long time. You’re looking forward to this, aren’t you?”

Solo couldn’t hide the grin that twitched at his lips. She was right. He was looking forward to getting back in the saddle, even if it were only for show. Napoleon missed the feel of a hot item in his hands, the accomplishment of taking something precious with very little effort. He was very clever and wasn’t ashamed to admit it. So clever, in fact, that only one other thief had rivaled his reputation… and he was face-to-face with her now. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m hungry. But I could use the excitement. It’s been far too long since I’ve had this much fun.”

“I’ll be sure to thrill you then.”

Now it was his turn to look her over. She flirted like a pro. Napoleon wondered how much of it was sincere and how much of it was a necessary business transaction. A woman in this business had to have a certain way with words in her arsenal. It wasn’t enough to be a great thief, she had to be a great thief who also exuded confidence. 

His gaze lingered on her lips before meeting her eyes again. She was a very attractive woman, and he made no bones about undressing her with his eyes. “I’m sure you can.” 

Natalia’s lips lifted into a sly smile. She pivoted gracefully and walked ahead of him to the front of the hotel where a convertible was waiting for them. 

“You can drive, can’t you, Mr. Solo?”

“Of course. Please, allow me.” An unnecessary courtesy. She was already waiting expectantly for him to open her door for her. He held back a smirk as he slide into the driver’s seat. The day was warm with only a mild breeze: a few puffs of clouds in the sky, a bright and cheery sun. They drove in silence for a few moments taking in the sights. The last time Napoleon had been in Rome was for the Vinciguerra mission. He hadn’t imagined he would be back so soon.

“The museum next, if you don’t mind.” Her tone made it clear that it didn’t matter to her if he did. “I’d like to take in the art before we…” 

“ _Walk out with it_?” Solo turned his head to look at her “I must ask, do you really have a plan, or are you just going to keep me guessing?”

He never had an issue with improvising or flying by the seat of his pants, but his neck was on the line here in more ways than one. He’d feel more at ease with a little preparation. Besides, he and Natalia were strangers.

Napoleon didn’t trust her any further than she trusted him. Another reason why people in their profession rarely partnered up. It was too much of a liability. 

Natalia shrugged. “This should be nothing for you, Mr. Solo.”

“Please. Call me Solo. All my friends and enemies do.”

“And if I am neither?” Natalia lifted an elegant brow and peered at him from behind her shades.

“Well, seeing as we’re going to be in bed together for this, I think we can drop the formalities. Don’t you?”

She thought for a moment. “You have a point, Solo. I suppose you may call me Natalia.”

He clapped his hand together before placing them back on the steering wheel. “Now that we're on familiar terms, I feel much more comfortable in partnering with you.”

“Or ‘getting into bed’ with me, as you put it?” Natalia smirked and took off her glasses. “Good. Since you’ll be the one doing most of the work.”

Solo’s brow furrowed before smoothing into a more neutral expression “Is that so?” This was news to him. He had assumed they would be working together for every step of this operation, though he should have expected Natalia would do something like this.

“Of course.” She chuckled. “Like I told you, I want insurance that you aren’t with INTERPOL. Do you really think I’d risk my livelihood on a bit of nostalgia for a man who hasn’t lifted a finger in the last five years? No? Now you have as much to lose as I do.”

She had a point. In their world, Napoleon Solo should be off enjoying his millions on a private island. The embarrassment of capture after many years of eluding law enforcement had been quite the blow to his ego, though the CIA had been _gracious_ enough to keep his reputation intact.

“Well, aren’t you clever?” he said dryly. He admired her resourcefulness. He’d have done the same if he were in her shoes. For the second time since they had met, Napoleon wished it had been under different circumstances. He would have liked for this to have been a real job.

“No, Solo. _You’re_ the clever one. You’re going to have to figure out how you’re going to get me that diamond. I can only show you the way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Today, we will be like any normal tourist: visiting one of the most beautiful places on earth, with many beautiful things for us to admire. We’ll stroll around together like everyone else.” she said, painting a picture in his mind. He imagined them walking arm-in-arm through the marbled interior He had no objections to that at all.

“But when it is near closing time,” she continued, “unlike the rest of the tourists, we will not leave. We’ll be staying behind in one of the utility closets on the same floor were the diamond is kept. The janitor has a tendency to leave his keys jangling about.” She patted her purse to show that that was a big mistake on the janitor's part. “After closing, the diamond is all yours. Well… all _mine_. After you get it for me.” She flashed him a sardonic smile.

Solo liked the challenge, and he was definitely game, though he realized this was exactly what Waverly worried about. But that was the risk the CIA, INTERPOL, and U.N.C.L.E. had taken when they made deals with devils like him. He was a criminal after all. Solo vowed not to let such trivialities worry him. He was here for a good time, not a long time. Whatever the consequences were, he'd deal with them then. He cast a sly glance at Natalia. “Good plan. I couldn’t have thought of any better.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. You were one of the best.”

“ _Were_?” He raised a brow. “I still am.”

++++

The museum was packed to capacity by the time they arrived making it easier to blend in. Natalia took off her glasses once they were inside. He said nothing when she linked her arm with his as they casually strolled through each exhibit together. On the outside, they looked like everyone else. But Solo’s mind and eyes were sharp. 

He noticed everything. The guard to his left. He was a hulking man who took his job seriously. Napoleon could tell by the way he watched everyone with an eagle eye. If that guard were on the night watch, they were going to be in trouble. His gaze swung around to an older couple by one of the marble statues. Their accents were French. They were also pickpockets. Nice. Technique needed a little sharpening, but otherwise, they were both fairly clean.

The diamond that Natalia wanted was on the third floor in a temporary exhibit by the Rubens. He smiled secretly to himself as his mind conjured up the image of the fake that hung beside the real thing. That had been a job for the ages. He knew the museum well and being back within its walls was like revisiting an old lover. He glanced down at his program and flipped to the proper page in the glossy pamphlet. 

Ah, she was after the Cullinan Diamond. Discovered in 1905, it was three times the size of the Excelsior Diamond. The Excelsior was found only twelve years earlier and had been thought to be the largest diamond in the world. The Cullinan surpassed it when it was discovered in South Africa. Weighing in at roughly 970 carats, it became the largest diamond in the world. And unlike the Excelsior, which was grotesquely cut with very little regard to its worth, the Cullinan was expertly divided by the famed Joseph Asscher into nine primary stones. Queen Mary famously wore one of the cuts in a brooch at her coronation. Taking the diamond wasn’t going to be a small feat by any stretch of the imagination—even for him. Now that he knew what she was after, Solo wished he’d had more time to think this one through.

“Tell me, Solo, why did you retire?” she asked as they admired a Manet together.

Napoleon tilted his head and gazed at the painting. He studied the patterns and colors as he carefully crafted his answer. “I looked at it as a game of poker,” he answered finally. “Sometimes you have to know when to fold. If you’re smart, you can hang it up and live comfortably for the rest of your life. And if you’re not…well, you know what happens.”

“And you were smart?”

He continued to look straight ahead as the lie spilled between his lips. “Yes. I suppose I was.”

“Then why come back?” 

He shrugged as they walked to the next painting. “Boredom. A bit of nostalgia, perhaps.”

“Mmm,” she said, looking him over again. “I hope you’re not too out of practice.”

He flashed her a cocky grin. “Just because I’m out of the game doesn’t mean I haven’t still been playing.” He hadn’t exactly become a boy scout during his years with the CIA.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you work.”

He and Natalia strolled around for a few more hours, going through each exhibit slowly, careful not to draw any attention to themselves. They made a quick pass where the diamond was being held, giving Solo a chance to note the distance from the nearby utility closet to the display. Two exits, both guarded. He discreetly checked the alarm system. They hadn’t done much of an upgrade since his last visit with the Rubens. That was a point in their favor at least. The job was going to be tricky on such short notice but not impossible—a true test by Natalia.

At around five o’clock, an announcement was made in Italian over the PA system warning them it was time to go. Solo glanced over at Natalia and gave her a curt nod. They arranged themselves to join the thick crowd filing out of the museum doors. But instead of exiting with the others, the two thieves took a sharp turn and headed toward the utility closet together. They were careful to avoid one guard who was watching everyone closely. Natalia grabbed Solo by the hand and pulled him into the closet, locking it behind. He blinked his eyes in the dark trying to adjust to the sudden change of light. Solo’s hand reached out blindly until he felt soft, rich fabric in the palm of his hands. He slid his hand up further and heard Natalia let out a small gasp. 

“Hands, Solo,” she warned. But she didn’t sound too put off by his wayward digits. 

“Oh, pardon me. I’ll just--” He pretended to clumsily get around her in the cramped quarters. His hands rested at her waist as he positioned himself around her. His movements had caused her to sway off balance. She clutched his arms tightly to keep from falling. They were standing close. He could smell her perfume. If he leaned in just an inch closer, his lips could brush hers. “There. That feels better.” Solo reluctantly dropped his hands from her sides. Natalia lifted a hand to the side of her neck and pulled in a quick breath. Solo smiled in the dark at her reaction. “You can let go now,” he said teasingly when he noticed she was still clutching his arms.

“Oh.” Natalia dropped her hands, sliding them down his arms slowly. 

Solo looked around the small room and sighed. He had forgotten that every job wasn’t always glamorous though he could hardly complain about the company. “Can you see?” he whispered.

“My eyes are adjusting, but…” Natalia dug into her purse and produced a penlight a few moments later. She used the small light to shine around the closet: nothing but cleaning supplies.

“Well, I guess we should get comfortable,” Solo said as he unfolded a chair for her. “We’ll be here for a while.” There was smile behind his blue eyes when he looked at her. 

“It’s not that bad. I’ve been in tighter spots than this.”

He grinned in the dark. “Believe me, so have I.”

Natalia settled back into her chair and crossed her legs. “Oh, I believe you. You look like a man who’s had his fair share of trouble.”

Solo leaned against an empty wall and studied Natalia. His eyes were adjusting nicely to the dimness of the closet and he could almost make her out clearly. When he laid eyes on her the night before, he never imagined their first time completely alone would be in a broom closet. If he were going to spend hours with her in the dark, he preferred it to be in a stylishly decorated room with a large comfortable bed.

“Is that what you think I am? Trouble?”

“I think you know the answer to that. I know about you, Solo.”

Napoleon smiled. His reputation as thief wasn’t the only thing that preceded him. “Then you know that I always exercise professionalism,” he lied with a teasing smirk. 

Natalia laughed. “I’m sure,” she said playing along. 

“Perhaps when we’re done here, I can show you just how _professional_ I can be.” His meaning was clear. He didn’t plan on being very professional at all given the opportunity. 

“Perhaps...” her voice held a hint of promise. 

++++

His alarm went off at precisely 9 p.m. that evening just in time for the shift change. He hoped beyond hope that the next set of guards would be the careless type who would rather be anywhere else but at work. Solo blinked his eyes, adjusting them to the darkness. He must have dozed off. “Natalia,” he whispered.

“I know,,” she said. “It’s almost time.”

“Are you ready?”

“I’m not the one who fell asleep. You did come up with a plan first, I hope?”

Solo sucked in a breath. “Something like that.”

He’d stolen from this museum before, so he was familiar with its layout and security system. He knew the times of the guard changing and a few other useful details. But that had been about a decade ago. He’d have to rely on his memory and his improvisation skills. Solo was grateful he’d chosen a sturdy pair of shoes and a casual, dark outfit to wear this morning. Natalia had done the same, with her all-black ensemble. They both had come prepared.

“For your sake, I hope it’s a good one. Congratulations, Mr. Solo. You’re officially out of retirement.”

If only that were the case. Solo did have a plan. He just wasn’t sure it was a very good one. Although he never had a plan that didn’t eventually work itself out. Solo pressed his ears to the door and listened. He couldn’t hear anything. He placed his index finger to his lips before opening the door as quietly as possible. The hall was empty. Solo motioned to Natalia and the two stepped out of the utility closet. They didn’t have very far to travel. Solo was careful to tread as silently as he could. The alarm system was a Quantum Elite 1500 series. It was very sensitive. So sensitive, that it began to get consumer complaints. The model was discontinued about a year earlier, but the museum never upgraded. In addition to it being so sensitive, it was also extremely easy to disable. The last time he’d stolen from The Galleria, he had taken care of the alarm earlier in the day. He hadn’t been able to get to it while they were touring because of the guards. 

The two thieves made their way to the diamond exhibit. Solo took a deep breath. If he were right about the security system, then they’d be out of there in less than an hour. If he were wrong… well, Napoleon didn’t want to think about being wrong. He held up a hand. “Here goes nothing.” He flashed her a smile before tripping the alarm.


	5. Hot Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Napoleon is a man with a plan. But is it a good plan? Gaby is dropping hints. Pick them up Illya!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I had three papers due in the same week. :)

Natalia’s eyes went wide with shock. “Is this your plan? Getting us caught?!” She whispered harshly.

Solo grinned and held a finger to his lips again. He was counting on the two bumbling night watchmen from earlier to come rushing in. Solo grabbed Natalia’s hand and pulled her into the utility closet. She stumbled in after him and into his arms. His fingers curled around her waist and he gave her a confident grin. No, getting caught was definitely not part of the plan. Neither was blowing his cover, risking his mission, and possibly getting them arrested. Solo’s eyes adjusted to the darkness again. He scanned Natalia’s face. Her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted in excitement. He couldn’t see very well, but he could feel the heat of her gaze boring into him like twin lasers… or was it something else? 

“Patience,” he whispered to her. 

The two security guards came running into the exhibit room speaking in loud Italian. Solo watched from the crack in the door as they fumbled around for the cause of the alarm. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, they said something to each other in Italian and headed out the room. Solo assumed it was to turn off the blaring alarm. 

“They thought it was a rat,” Napoleon said with a chuckle. Natalia eyed him skeptically in the dim room. 

“A rat? You mean to tell me your hair-brained idea is actually working?” her voice was tinged with a mixture of amusement and awe. 

“It seems like it-- I mean, yes, of course, it worked.” _Of course, it worked? I’m either the most foolish man on earth or the luckiest._ A few minutes later all was quiet again. Solo counted to thirty silently. “Wait here,” he said, before slipping out the closet again. 

The two guards were nowhere in sight. If Napoleon had to guess, they were off somewhere barely doing their jobs. Perfect. As luck would have it, they had chosen the night to steal a priceless diamond when Tweedledee and Tweedledum were on duty. A few seconds later the alarm went off again and Solo dove back into the closet. Natalia opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His tactics were so unconventional, she was rendered speechless… _again_. Napoleon placed a finger to his lips and mouthed, “trust me.” The two thieves waited in silence as the guards began their search again. They argued loudly as they paced in and out of the room. This time, they were both convinced it was a rat. Solo cocked his ear toward the door and strained to hear what they were saying as they floated from room to room. One of them claimed they saw a rat in the break room, and it must have gotten into the museum. He made a move for the door for the third time. 

“You’re not doing that again, are you?” Natalia asked. She was still doubtful about the success of his plan. 

“Have a better idea?” he asked. “We’ve already set sails on this ship.” 

Natalia grabbed his arm digging in. “And unlike you, Solo, I have no plans to go down with it.” 

Napoleon looked down at her hand on his arm. This wasn’t the first time he had piqued the ire of a woman and he was sure it wasn’t going to be his last. “Oh, neither do I. We won’t get caught.” His voice was confident when he spoke. He learned in the past that sometimes one had to fake it until they made it. Solo looked down at his arm again and carefully peeled her fingers off. 

“Solo, I highly--”

“Hold that thought,” he said before dipping out of the room once again. 

Napoleon waited for a few beats before he triggered the alarm for the third time. He barely made it back in the closet when the guards showed up again. Solo swiftly twisted the lock and... _click_! They were safe. Napoleon motioned for Natalia to get behind him. The door jerked from the other side as one of the guards tried to get inside. Napoleon reached inside his breast pocket and wrapped his hand around cool steel. Armed robbery. Now, _that_ wasn’t part of the plan. The door jerked once more. One of the guards cursed and a few seconds later the door was still again. Solo turned around to look at Natalia and came face to face with the barrel of a Smith and Wesson .38 Special. He blinked his eyes taken aback by the sight of her petite gun. She shrugged when he gingerly placed his hand over hers and helped her lower it out of his face. 

“Armed robbery, Natalia?” He tsked tongue in cheek. 

“I hadn’t planned on ever pulling it out until you came along.”

Napoleon smirked. That was too easy. He let it go and listened with bated breath for the guards to finish searching for their “rat.” They decided once and for all that it was their kitchen rat and discussed what they would do about their overly sensitive alarm. The decision was to shut it off for the rest of the night and turn it back on in the morning before their shift changed. If the rat came out during the day, the daytime crew would have to handle it. The two guards agreed to turn it off together and made plans to finish their card game. 

Solo let out a sigh of relief and grinned. Natalia couldn’t resist the reluctant smile that pulled at the corner of her lips. His plan had worked. She had doubted him, but once again, Napoleon Solo had proved her wrong. “What do we do now?” 

“Now?” Solo echoed her. “We wait. The alarm is still too hot. Let’s lull them back into their card game and when the time is right, we nab it.” 

Natalia bobbed her head in agreement. “Is this the first time you’ve used this scheme?” Natalia asked after a few minutes. 

“This isn’t my first time around the block,” Solo answered. He wasn’t ready to admit his little plan had mostly been off the top of his head. Although, he was proud of himself for pulling off a job like this in such short notice. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Natalia said with a grin. “You know, Solo, I had my doubts about you. You’ve been away so long, but… I suppose I underestimated you.” 

They were standing close in that cramped closet. He could smell her perfume again and practically feel the hum of her skin. He imagined what it looked like beneath her casual attire. 

“Maybe we’ll have some time later and I can prove you wrong again,” he flirted. 

“Maybe…” Her smile was cat-like and mischievous. 

Napoleon appreciated the sparkle of desire in her eyes. Somehow he had managed to impress her between the previous evening and that night. 

They waited in the cramped closet for half an hour before emerging again. Natalia and Solo moved stealthily toward the diamond in unison. Natalia hung back as Solo used his glass cutter to make a hole large enough to extract his hand and the diamond. He slipped on a pair of black gloves and carefully removed the diamond from the display. It looked like ice in the palm of his hand. Ah, it was a thing of beauty. He imagined heat radiating from it through his gloves, warming the skin underneath the leather. Solo held it in the light for both of them to see how precious it was. If this were a legitimate job, Napoleon imagined he could get a very reasonable price for it. Too bad neither of them would possess it for long. He was not going to allow her to keep it. What a pity. 

Natalia watched with glittering eyes as he placed the stone in a velvet sack he produced from his pocket. “There you go,” he said handing it to her with a cheeky smile.

Natalia clutched the velvet bag in her hand and slipped it into her purse. “Let's clean up,” she said and handed him a handkerchief. She was all business again. 

They wiped all the door handles of their prints from the utility closet quickly. Solo thought he heard footsteps drawing closer. So much for that card game. “You don’t suppose we’ll just walk right through the front door, do you?”

Natalia bobbed her head and gave him a determined look. “Not exactly. Follow me.”

The two made their way down another empty corridor until they found a stairwell toward the back of the building. They were almost to the home stretch. All they had to do was get out of the building and on to the streets. Solo followed Natalia down another series of corridors until they were on the lowest level of the building. They were now in the part of the building that was off-limits to tourists. Natalia tried the door. Locked. She mumbled a curse under her breath. 

Solo moved in front of her, “let me try.” He jiggled the door again. It wouldn’t budge. He studied it for a moment. The lock was rather rudimentary. He could pick it with his eyes closed in under three minutes. “Hairpin,” he said.

Natalia patted down her hair and a few seconds later produced a pin from her thick auburn up-do. Solo crouched down and began to fiddle with the lock. And just a few more... _There!_ The door opened. He flashed her a confident smile as they stepped out into fresh Italian air. Napoleon looked from his left to his right. Satisfied that the coast was clear, they stepped further on to the street together. Their laughter filled the silence as they stopped to stare at each other. They were standing close again. This time when he stepped forward, Natalia didn’t back away. Without further hesitation, Napoleon leaned forward and planted his lips on hers. The kiss was both exciting and sultry as he worked his mouth over hers. 

“What was that for?” she asked breathlessly when they came up for air. 

Napoleon looked down into her questioning eyes. “It’s late. Isn’t that what lovers do on late night strolls in Italy?” 

Natalia lifted a hand to her well-kissed lips and nodded. “They do. But we are not lovers.”

Yet, Solo thought to himself. He lifted his arm so she could link it with his. Now, they looked like a couple on late night stroll. “It’s all part of the cover. Just go with it,” he said in his smooth American accent.

Neither of them spoke as they walked toward the street where he had parked the rental hours earlier. Solo was relieved to see the car still there.

“It seems like things are working in our favor tonight,” he said opening the passenger side for her. 

“Yes. I have to agree.”

Napoleon slid into the driver's side and placed the car into drive. Once they put a few miles between them and the museum, he was able to breathe a sigh of relief. He had done it. He pulled off one of the biggest heists since his retirement and no one would be the wiser. He wondered what the headlines would read the following morning. He recalled a time when he had fetched some rather interesting press. 

“You did well, Solo…for a man just out of retirement. I’m impressed.” 

Napoleon didn’t know why, but it pleased him that _she_ was impressed with _him_. “Oh, really? You were prepared to murder me a half hour ago.”

Natalia laughed. “Well, a half hour ago you were tripping alarms as if you were green.” She motioned around her ears. 

He had to give her that one. He had never heard of a thief who set off alarms on purpose. That was a rookie mistake. “Ye of little faith,” he quipped. 

“Well, we’ve got the diamond. I’ll contact my guy and once I get the money--”

“Oh, no, Ms. Povlovsky. We’re partners now. I’m with you on this every step of the way.”

Natalia’s lips twitched into a smile. “Now, now, Solo, you don’t think I’d double-cross you do you?”

“Yes.” His raised brow punctuated his response. 

“Is there no honor among thieves?” She asked with a teasing smile. 

“In my experience… never.” 

Natalia laughed once more. “Fine. We’ll see about my guy together. He hates meeting new people. But I suppose your name may soften him up a bit. It still carries some weight.”

Napoleon liked the sound of that. “Together then,” he agreed. 

++++

“What do you suppose he’s doing?” Gaby asked from her perch on the sofa across from Illya. 

“Who? Cowboy?” Illya asked, not looking up from his book. Gaby bobbed her head. “Probably getting into trouble. If you want, I can locate.”

“No! I was only curious. I don’t want you to spy.” She shook her head emphatically. Snooping on Solo was not how she imagined spending her evening alone with Illya. 

Illya’s lips twitched into a smile. A spy who didn’t like to spy. He looked up from his book. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Gaby was quiet for a moment. She watched Illya bury his nose back into his book. She squinted at the title. It was something in Russian that she couldn’t read yet. “You know, I’d like to do something outside of sitting in a hotel room all the time,” Gaby hinted. 

Illya looked up from his book again. “You’re not comfortable?”

Gaby rolled her eyes. Did she need to wear a flashing sign? “I just think it might be nice to get out sometime. Why should Solo have all the fun, you know?” 

Illya’s eyes locked with hers. Was she asking him on a date? “Perhaps I can arrange this.” Gabby smiled at him and Illya immediately felt warm. He looked down at his book again and smiled. 

++++

They made it back to her hotel room just shortly after midnight. Napoleon suggested a nightcap was in order to celebrate their victory, and to his surprise, she agreed. 

“What will you have?” She stood by the wet bar with a glass in her hand. 

“Scotch, neat,” he said, looking around her room. She was in one of the more expensive suites. Napoleon appreciated her style. When he was still active, he often opted for the creature comforts. Natalia nodded her head and made both their drinks at once. 

“To our success,” she said, toasting him with her class. 

Napoleon clinked his glass with hers before taking a drink. They eyed each over the rim of their glasses and he was reminded once again of her beauty. He pictured them in walking swiftly through the museum as they made their escape. Her cheeks had been flush with excitement. The smell of her perfume still lingered in the air between them. He had grown to like it while they waited in the cramped utility closet together. 

“Do you mind?” she asked, placing her glass down on the table. “I’d like to slip into something a little more comfortable.”

“Not at all,” Napoleon said. While she was in the other room, he took the opportunity to look around for anything that would clue him into what she had planned next. Now that the diamond affair was out of the way, he could focus on the actual mission. She had said the egg was getting appraised. But where? Solo, quietly opened one of the drawers to a small accent table. Some of her things were inside. A receipt… and a business card. He picked it up with one hand and held his drink with the other. 

_Bernini_ , it read in elegant French Script. So, that’s where the egg is, Solo thought. He tucked the card away in his breast pocket and finished his drink. “It’s getting late,” he said loud enough for her to hear him from the other room. “I think I should be going now.”

Natalia emerged from the bedroom area dressed in a long, white silk robe. “So soon… The night is still young.”

Napoleon placed his empty glass aside. “Aren’t you worried about appearances?”

Natalia smirked. “I’m not. Are you?” She asked. The silk robe slipped from her shoulders and pooled around her feet. 

“I’ve never been one to worry about them before,” he said crossing the room.

“Then why start tonight?” She said before Solo gathered her into his arms for a kiss.


	6. Maybe In Another Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " Solo bit back a smile. She told him the name of the jewelers. Could that mean she did trust him on some level now? "

Solo blinked against the sunlight. A faint, satisfied smile touched his lips. He thought about the evening before and reached for Natalia. His eyes fluttered when his fingers grasped the empty sheets behind him. Solo’s eyes snapped open as he felt around the bed, she was gone. The spy sat up in the wide bed and looked around the empty room. Had she given _him_ the slip? Napoleon stood up and walked toward the closet. Her clothes were still inside. There was also a plush men’s terry cloth robe hanging beside one of her dresses. Napoleon slid his arms inside before walking out onto the balcony. She was already sitting down for breakfast. Napoleon tightened the belt to his robe and observed her from the doorway. She sipped on her espresso while taking in the view. Napoleon appreciated the angles in her face and the delicate way she drank her coffee. This Natalia was quite different from the Natalia he had the previous night. 

“Good morning,” his voice was rich and deep. Natalia paused and hid a smile behind her espresso cup. Solo caught it and felt warm with satisfaction. 

Natalia turned her head to face him. “Good morning, Solo,” she said with a smile. “I took the liberty of ordering us room service. The fruit here is fresh.”

Napoleon’s eyes flickered over the breakfast table. He took the seat across from her and spread the linen cloth over his lap. “I thought you might have given me the slip,” he admitted. 

Natalia smirked and took another small sip of her coffee. “Is that what you would have done if the shoe was on the other foot?” Her question was as direct as her gaze. 

Napoleon thought about her question. When he was in the thick of it, things like this happened to him quite often. A double cross never bothered him unless he was on the giving end. When Solo woke up that morning and thought she left, he felt… well, he couldn’t describe it. There was a bit of anger, but there was disappointment, too. It bothered him that he cared. It bothered him that he wanted their night together to be mutually satisfying. Solo knew sexually they had knocked it out of the park. But good sex didn’t guarantee loyalty. Natalia had no reason to be loyal to him. And after today, he feared this was a bridge that would be irrevocably burned. 

“I asked first.” He tried to sidestep her question. 

“No, you didn’t. But it’s alright. You don’t have to answer. Both of us are here now. Let’s enjoy some breakfast and discuss our plans for tonight.”

 _Ah, that’s right._ They were supposed to be stealing the egg together and splitting the take. Solo eyed Natalia over his bite of egg brioche. She looked pensive as she silently gazed out over the city. In the few days that he’d known her, he’d never seen her this way. Solo wondered if she regretted what she was about to do as much as he did. The American spy thought about the file Waverly handed the team before the mission. Maximilian Kirkoff, scientist, engineer, genius. Three months ago, the German scientist appeared out of nowhere with a bomb he claimed rivaled any bombs in known existence. It was supposed to be stronger than the H bomb. Several nations fell over themselves trying to purchase the plans for the explosive, including the United States. According to Waverly’s file, the high demand for the weapon gave Kirkoff the leverage he needed to negotiate. He dangled the plans like a carrot in front of a team of horses desperate to get their hands on the weapon. Kirkoff managed to incite a bidding war. Cuba won. But the scientist withheld one vital piece of the plans… the code. He it in a Faberge egg and sold it off. The bomb was useless without the code. The country who retrieved the code first would then have the negotiating power. It was a dangerous game and the team from U.N.C.L.E. was tasked to retrieve the code and neutralize it. 

“The egg will be transferred back to the DiMarco family estate at around 3 pm this afternoon. The family will be hosting another party. I have already secured our invitation,” Natalia continued. 

Napoleon nodded and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Where will the egg be transferred from?” He didn’t look at her while he asked the question. Instead, Solo casually dropped two sugar cubes into his coffee. 

Natalia was quiet for a moment. When he finally looked at her, he noticed a battle brewing behind her tawny eyes. He could fall into those and eyes and swim in them. 

“A jewelry shop. Bernini’s. It’s very old. Very respected. The truck will be heavily armored and almost impossible to breach.” 

Solo bit back a smile. She told him the name of the jewelers. Could that mean she did trust him on some level now? “Ah, I see. You think it would be easier to lift it from the home?” 

Natalia nodded.“Yes. The other night I did a sweep of their home and security system. Standard locks. Standard safe.” 

“Shame. I was hoping for a challenge.” 

“I enjoy a challenge, too… but I just want this over and done with.”

Napoleon lifted a brow. Now, that was something. He studied Natalia’s face again. She tried masking her emotions, but he recognized the pensive look behind her eyes. There was something more going on than a simple heist. He wanted to ask her what was troubling her but decided it wasn’t his place. One night together didn’t suddenly make them intimate. “Have you gotten in touch with your man about the diamond?” He asked switching the subject.

“Not yet, but I will later this afternoon.” She stood, and Napoleon followed her back into the room. 

He thought about the diamond nestled in his coat pocket. He had stolen it back from her while she slept. The sound of the bed shifting when he crept between the sheets had awakened her. He had no choice but to distract her with another long and exhausting round of sex. Not that he minded at all. Napoleon almost felt bad for taking it from her. But he knew Waverly would take issue with him breaking the law, even if it was for the mission. 

“How later this afternoon?” He asked taking hold of her wrist and pulling her against him. She was warm and pliant. Napoleon liked the way her body melted against his. 

“Not too much later.” She said looking up at him. Her lips brushed against his as she spoke. “Do you have any plans in the meantime?” He asked kissing her throat. Natalia all but purred beneath his kisses. 

“None that I’m aware of.” 

“Good,” he said with a smirk. “I don’t have any plans either.”

++++

They slept together again. But this time when they kissed, it was tinged with a hint of desperation. Napoleon would give Natalia as much time as possible for her to leave the country. Once Waverly got his hands on her, he was sure INTERPOL would follow. It was one thing to double cross her, but another to turn her in. There were fates worse than jail, but for a wild cat like Natalia, it would be torture. Napoleon watched the steady rise and fall of the sheets as she slept. He wished he could say he didn’t wake her because she looked too peaceful to disturb. No, that wasn’t it. Solo didn’t wake her because he needed to make a quick escape. _Maybe in another life,_ he thought as he closed the door quietly behind him. 

The moment he left the room, Natalia’s eyes snapped open. She waited for a few beats before she threw off the covers and made her way to the bathroom. She had work to do. 

++++

Illya and Gaby were waiting for him back in his hotel room. The Russian spy clutched a newspaper in his hand and stared at him with steel blue eyes. “You made the front page,” his accent was thick with annoyance. 

Solo read the headline and frowned. “Rat Infestation In the Galleria Museum! Priceless Diamond Missing!” He had hoped for something a little more exciting than that. Back when he was active, his headlines always had a certain _je ne sais quoi_. Solo extracted the paper from Illya and said, “A little bland don’t you think, Peril?” 

“Waverly will not like this,” Illya responded. 

Solo wanted to tell him to relax. He had the diamond and it was secure. They would return it to the museum, and all would be right with the world again. Napoleon walked over to the safe in his room. With a flourish of his hand, he produced the rare diamond and watched his partner’s eyes go wide in shock. 

“You stole it back!” Gaby exclaimed rushing toward him. “Of course. You didn’t think I would allow her to keep it, did you?” The diamond sparkled in the natural light and reflected off Gaby’s eyes. “Do you want to hold it?” 

“Now, wait a minute, cowboy!” Illya interrupted. If anyone was going to give Gaby jewelry beyond price, it was going to be him, not cowboy. 

“Relax, Peril. It’s only on loan. I’ll have it back where it belongs before Waverly ever catches wind of it.” 

The Soviet regarded him with skepticism. So far, despite his shortcomings as a spy, Solo had proven himself to be a valuable asset to the team and a loyal partner. But he was still a thief at heart. Illya was afraid something like this would cause him to slip back into his old ways. The diamond was worth millions. Would a million and a pretty face tempt him away from the team? “Then I think it would be best to let us keep it safe,” Illya said moving beside Gaby. 

“What? You don’t trust me, Peril?”

"I don’t trust her. She stole my watch right from my wrist. What will stop her from stealing this diamond back?” 

Napoleon nodded his head and handed the diamond over to Gaby. The woman clutched it in her hands and weighed it in her palm. “It’s heavier than I thought,” she said with interest. 

“Pure diamond,” Illya explained. “Not cut and weakened by merchant hands.” Illya studied Gaby’s face. She looked at the diamond with awe. 

“You like?” His voice was thick.

“Huh, oh—” Gaby looked up at Illya. They were standing close. Her face colored slightly. 

“It’s a diamond. Who doesn’t like diamonds?”

Illya stared at the gemstone in her hand. For a moment he imagined presenting her with a diamond of his own—a real one. Not the baubles they used as part of their cover. 

Solo shook his head and cleared his throat. “The egg will be on the move soon.” 

Illya snapped himself out of his fantasy and refocused. “Did you find out where it’s being appraised.” 

Napoleon nodded. “Bernini’s. They are one of the oldest jewelers in Italy. According to Natalia the truck it will be traveling in is heavily armored and nearly impossible to penetrate.” 

“A problem you never seem to have,” Gaby sniffed. 

Napoleon flashed her a grin and tilted his head. Where was the lie? “It seems we will have to get a little creative.” 

“Like Istanbul,” Illya reminded them. They all took a moment to reflect nostalgically on Istanbul. 

“So, what does that make me? Bait again?” 

Napoleon gave Gaby a quick once over. “Only for a short time. After that, you’ve got the most important job.” 

“And that is?” 

“We’ll need you to drive.” Gaby’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Illya’s lips twitched into a slight smile as he watched her enjoyment. He knew she was itching to have more of a role on the team lately now that they were beginning to find their footing. 

“What’s the time?” Illya asked. 

Solo glanced at his watch. The truck would be on the move at approximately three in the afternoon. They needed time to work out the finer details of the plan. There were a few things that needed to be tweaked from the Istanbul mission. The plan was to intercept the diamond before it reached the DiMarco family compound and rendezvous with Waverly at the drop point. 

“Three give or take. Let’s plan for some take rather than give.”

Illya gave him a firm nod. “I’ll contact Waverly and secure the drop point.” 

“And I’ll secure this,” Gaby said shaking the diamond nestled in the black velvet bag.


	7. Double, Double Cross

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So she had planned on double-crossing him anyway. Napoleon knew it shouldn’t have bothered him. After all, he had done it to her first. But…that didn’t keep him from having feelings about it. She hadn’t trusted him after all. 
> 
> Illya almost felt sorry for the horse faced boy. He didn’t blame him for taking a liking to Gaby. She was an attractive woman.

Natalia was fuming. He had double-crossed her. She stared at the reflection looking back at her in the bathroom mirror. The woman she saw glared at her through thin slits in her eyes. They contrasted with her rosy well-kissed lips. _Ugh!_ Even after his sly, underhandedness, she couldn’t get the night before out of her head. Solo was quite an accomplished lover. Too bad he was also a snake. And to think, she had almost felt bad for planning on double-crossing him. _Almost._ Natalia supposed this was all part of the game, but she had little experience in these matters. She had never taken a partner before. Nor had she ever taken a lover within her same profession. There was a saying in Russia that warned about mixing business with pleasure. This was a lesson learned. It only cost her millions. Natalia sighed heavily and blew her bangs out her face. She didn’t have time to sulk all afternoon. 

She glanced at the gold watch on the counter top. The appraiser was scheduled at Bernini’s in just a little over an hour. She was already packed and ready to go. All she had to do was put on her disguise. The frown on her face slipped away as she reached into one of her cases. Natalia didn’t use disguises very often, but when she did she always enjoyed the thrill of becoming someone else. She leaned the art of disguise from her father. When she was a girl, he would take her with him to those small, dingy Russian movie sets. The films were always low budget travesties compared to the American made movies, but she loved watching him work. Even with meager funds, he was always able to transform those actors into anything he wanted them to be. 

Natalia swept her hair up with skillful hands and tucked her dark tresses under a wig cap. The blonde wig she packed fit snuggly as she adjusted the part to the center of her head. Natalia brushed the flyaway strands into place and slipped on a pair of horn-rimmed glasses. With her look complete, she was ready for the next phase of her job. The sooner she got that damned code, the sooner she could return to her normal life away from all this political nonsense. 

++++

Illya eyed the armored truck through a pair of binoculars from across the busy street. _The Virgona Armored Truck Company_ was hired exclusively by the DiMarco family to transport the egg to and from Bernini’s Jewelers. The truck was tucked away in a narrow ally on the side of the building. Illya trained his gaze toward the driver’s side of the truck. The man behind the wheel appeared to be in his late 40’s, while his partner looked about a decade younger. A smile touched his lips as he reflected on the plan he and his partners mapped out earlier. While Cowboy was in the shop pretending to look for an engagement ring, he and Gaby would take care of the two drivers. They’d pulled something similar off in Istanbul a few months earlier. Illya’s hands flexed under his black driving gloves as she continued watching the two men. While he was fully prepared for violence, he hoped things would run a little more smoothly this time around.

Illya checked his watch for the tenth time. When he glanced up again, he spotted Gaby standing on the edge of the crosswalk. The petite woman looked both ways before she stepped off the ledge and made her way across the street toward the truck. He couldn’t see what direction she was looking in; the heavy shades she wore shielded her eyes. Illya imagined they were trained on both her marks. He enjoyed the view from behind his binoculars and scooted up in his seat. 

Just as planned, Gaby pretended to drop the clutch she was carrying and let the contents spill out onto the street in front of the truck. Illya watched as the older man rushed out and came to her aid. Tossing the binoculars aside, he exited the car. The spy handed the keys to a surprised passerby and slipped on a pair of shades before crossing the street. Gaby was flirting with both men as they helped her stuff lipstick and other feminine items back into the small purse. His eyes darkened at the sound of her phony, girlish laughter. The young man ate up her attention as he flirted back. Illya's eyes bore into the younger man like twin lasers. His fingers flexed with the urge to plow his fist into his horse face. But he reached into his pocket instead and slid on an antique, gold ring. 

“Is everything alright, Darling?” He said placing his other hand on the small of Gaby’s back as he neared her. Illya kept his eyes trained on both men as he spoke. 

“Oh, yes,” Gaby said pretending to be startled by her fake husband’s sudden appearance. “These two men were helping me. I seemed to be a little clumsy today.” 

“It was no trouble, Senora. No trouble,” one of the men said in heavily accented English. 

“Darling,” Gaby said, turning toward Illya. “This is…”

“Luigi,” the younger man introduced himself eagerly. 

“And I’m Antonio.” 

Illya jerked his head stiffly at both men. Luigi was still looking at Gaby as if she hung the moon and the stars in the sky. He didn’t like it. “Thank you for assisting my wife.”

“Oh, you are most welcome, senor,” Luigi said in a cheerful manner.   
Illya almost felt sorry for the horse faced boy. He didn’t blame him for taking a liking to Gaby. She was an attractive woman. _His woman._ Luigi continued to smile at his phony wife with his toothy grin. It made what Illya was about to do next so much easier. Illya plastered on an artificial smile as he extended his hand for the boy to shake. Luigi’s knees went weak almost immediately. The driver staggered back into his partner's arms. 

“Luigi! Luigi!” Antonio said in surprise. He smacked Luigi’s face gently with the palm and back of his hand. Gaby crouched down beside the men and looked up at Illya with panic in her eyes. 

“Here let me,” Illya said. The Russian spy reached down and   
pinched the spot between the man’s jawline and collar bone. Antonio’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head before he slumped over into Gaby’s arm with a grunt.

“A little help here.” Gaby struggled under the weight of the older man. Illya scrambled forward and lifted the man out of her arms.   
“What was that?” Gaby asked as he hauled the older man toward the back of the truck. 

“What?” Illya grunted.

“That thing you did with the—” Gaby pinched the air pantomiming what Illya had done to Antonio. 

“Old Russian trick. I show you sometime.” 

Gaby’s lips tilted up into a slight smile as she slid her arms between Luigi’s and dragged him toward the back of the truck. 

“Let me do it,” Illya said with a frown. He didn’t want her to put a   
strain on herself while trying to lift a man twice her size. 

“I can do it,” Gaby scoffed. 

Illya’s brow knitted into a slight frown. He didn’t want to cause a scene by arguing with her. “Fine, just be careful,” he managed as he pulled Antonio into the back of the truck. After he secured the first body, he lifted Luigi from Gaby’s arms and placed him next to Antonio. 

Illya extended his hand to Gaby and helped her into the back of the truck before slamming the door shut. A dim red light glowed between them as they hovered over the two unconscious men. Illya looked around the confined space then back at Gaby again. Her eyes were still trained on the two truck drivers. 

“They’re not dead, are they?” She asked. Her voice was tinged with concern. 

“No,” Illya answered her with unexpected tenderness in his voice. “Just unconscious. The first one,” he said pointing to Luigi, "will be out for the next twelve hours. 

“And him?” Gaby nodded toward Antonio. 

“About 18 give or take.” 

By the time both men came to, they would all be long gone. Illya crouched down and began untying Antonio’s shoes. Gaby followed his lead and began working on Luigi. She was considerably shorter than the Italian man, but he was closer to her size. Gaby tried not to blush as they stripped both men down to their T-shirts and underwear. Gaby straightened herself up with Luigi’s gray jumpsuit balled in her arms. Her gaze met Illya’s and the pair stared at one another before she cleared her throat signaling for privacy. 

_Oh, right,_ Illya thought as he turned his back toward her so they could both change. The air between them was electric as they stripped out of their clothing and into the uniforms. Illya’s back stiffened when Gaby’s arm accidentally brushed his. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she continued dressing. 

Illya grunted his acknowledgment and continued to stare straight ahead with laser focus. As tempting as it was to turn around and take a peek, he would never dishonor Gaby in that way. The last time they pulled this off in Istanbul, they didn’t have to worry about being in such confined quarters. 

“Are you decent?” Illya asked once he was completely dressed. 

“Yes, but…” 

Illya turned around to face Gaby and bit back a smile. Luigi’s uniform seemed to have swallowed her alive. Gaby gave him an exasperated look as she shoved the sleeves up her arms and tucked them to keep each in place. She did the same with the trouser legs. 

“The shoes are too big,” she said. 

Illya looked down at her tiny feet. “No one will be looking at your feet,” he assured her. 

Gaby glanced at the two sleeping men. “Shouldn’t we tie them up or something?

Illya jerked his head. “No need. They won’t wake up.” 

Gaby looked skeptical for a moment then shrugged it off. She snatched one of the caps hanging on a hook and tucked her hair inside before pulling it down low over her face. “There. Now I look like a truck driver.” 

Illya gave Gaby an approving once over. “Or a little, chop shop girl,” he said fondly, making them both smile. 

A few minutes later both spies were sitting at the front of the truck with Gaby at the wheel. She was the driver. Just in case something went awry, they needed someone fast who could give any persistent pursuer the slip. 

“What do we do now?” She asked to break the silence. 

“We wait for Cowboy.”

++++

Solo walked into Bernini’s with one goal in mind. Get the egg. He was fashionably dressed (as usual) in a designer suit (was there any other way?). Solo looked the part of a besotted lover there to find a ring for his intended. The woman at the front counter, Veronica, helped him look for a ring. Solo rattle off a list of what he was pretending to look for in an engagement ring. He thought back to the one time he had seriously contemplated purchasing an engagement ring. That was a million years ago when he had been a fool in love. Solo tapped his finger against the glass case as Veronica excused herself to retrieve more ring selections for him. When the saleswoman opened the back door, Solo got a brief look of a woman on the other side. She was slim and athletically built like… He shook his head. That _couldn’t_ be her. The coloring was all wrong. Natalia had long, dark hair. This woman was tall and blonde. 

“Here you are, Mr. Dempsey,” Veronica said with a smile as she placed a display of extremely expensive diamond rings on the counter in front of him. 

“That woman…” Solo said, tearing his eyes away from the closed back door. “Who is she?” 

Veronica blinked her eyes in confusion. “Who?”

“In the room, you just came from. Who was that woman?”

“Oh, she’s just the appraiser.” 

“Do you know her name?” 

Veronica gave him another bewildered look. “Is something the matter, Mr. Dempsey?” 

Solo shook his head. “No. I apologize. I thought I recognized her from somewhere.” 

Veronica shrugged her shoulders and plastered a smile on her face. “How are these?”

Solo gave the diamond rings a brief uninterested glance. He was more concerned with what was going on behind that shut door. He only got a fleeting look at her, But Solo was convinced that the fair-haired woman was Natalia. _Of all the—._ So she had planned on double-crossing him anyway. Napoleon knew it shouldn’t have bothered him. After all, he had done it to her first. But…that didn’t keep him from having feelings about it. She hadn’t trusted him after all. 

“Mr. Dempsey, Mr. Dempsey,” Veronica’s voice wrenched him from his thoughts. 

Napoleon looked up at the saleswoman and shook his head. He was about to say something when the back door opened, and an older gentleman staggered out holding his neck. 

“P-P-“ The man stammered as he grabbed a hold of the counter. His fingers curled around the edge of the glass top. _“Policia!”_

“Mr. Bernini!” Veronica cried out in alarm. She rushed toward the old man and helped him to a chair. “What happened? Are you hurt?” 

“Call the police,” he said feebly in Italian. “We’ve been robbed.” 

The moment the words were out, Solo dashed toward the back of the store. Behind him, the sound of the alarm blasted loudly. He could hear Veronica’s voice yell, shrilly at him to stop. Solo ignored her as he ran into the back room. He glanced around quickly. A blonde wig lay discarded on the floor and the back door was still ajar. _She can’t have gone that far,_ Napoleon thought as he followed Natalia’s tracks. She was getting sloppy. Solo doubted that Bernini was supposed to make it out of that room before Natalia had given him the slip. So, either she hadn’t done a good job drugging him or the man was built like an ox. Napoleon glanced left and right until he spotted a brown-haired woman walking calmly down the back ally. He hurried toward her retreating back. 

“Stop!” He called out to her. 

Natalia’s shoulders stiffened before she hurried her stride and took off into a full run. Solo picked up his pace and ran behind her. They were both stopped in their tracks as two policemen rounded the corner with their whistles and billy clubs in hand. Natalia swiftly turned around and began to run back toward Solo. 

“What are you doing here?” She panted, once she was beside him. 

“What am _I_ doing here? What are _you_ doing here?” He turned the question back on her. Natalia only glared at him. Solo glanced behind them. The police were catching up. “Here. Take my hand,” he said, capturing her hand in his and pulled her into the next open door. 

They were in a busy restaurant kitchen. Solo grabbed a tray and headed toward the front of the house where the guests were dining. Beside him, Natalia nearly crashed into another server sending a tray of soup over. Napoleon grabbed the small case where she had hidden the Faberge egg and gripped it in his free hand while she collected herself. The two thieves made their way through the bustle of the kitchen. Dodging the wait staff, they each gained a hold of the case, snatching it back and forth between each other. 

“Give it back,” Natalia said between clenched teeth.

Napoleon handed his tray off to one of the waiters. “Not a chance.” 

“You’ve got the diamond. What do you want with this egg?” Natalia made a pass for the case again. 

They both froze when they spotted two more police officers step into the restaurant. Napoleon took a hold of Natalia’s hand and pulled her into a booth. They used a menu to conceal their faces as the officers scrambled around the restaurant. 

Napoleon watched as they headed toward the back before slipping out of the booth with Natalia close on his heels. The street outside of the restaurant was bustling. Napoleon glanced around before he recognized where they were. 

“If you don’t want to end up in jail, I suggest you follow me,” he advised. 

Natalia glared at him and took another pass at the case before making an exasperated sound. The pair made their way quickly down the street, grabbing newspapers and anything they could find to avoid being seen by the police. Napoleon rounded another corner with Natalia. The truck was waiting for them with Gaby at the wheel. Napoleon's shoulders sagged in relief just as a group of police officers stormed the alley. He jumped on to the back of the truck and pulled Natalia up beside him. 

He gave three sharp bangs on the truck and yelled, “Drive!”

“You hear that?” Gaby said to Illya at the front of the truck. 

“It’s Cowboy! Go!” He instructed. 

The truck started up with a kick of black smoke and took off with a jerk. 

Solo gripped the door handle and clutched the case to his chest. The truck began to zig-zag through the streets of Rome with police cars on its tail. Beside him, Natalia clung to the door of the truck for dear life as the bounced along the roads trying to evade the police. The truck turned down an impossibly narrow side street, before shooting out the other side. Sparks flew as it scraped against the side of one of the buildings. Two police cars gave chase, circling a roundabout before crashing into each other. Gaby gave the truck a reckless jerk to the left. Napoleon’s feet slipped and went flying behind him. Natalia used his momentary panic to grab the case back him. When he regained his footing, he placed his hands over hers and wrapped it around the handle, trapping it beneath his. The truck lumbered on, breaking traffic laws to evade the police. Once they were out of the city and away from the police, Napoleon felt himself relax again. The truck slowed as it rounded a bend up the hillside road. Napoleon kept his eyes on Natalia. He knew the moment the truck stopped, she would make a run for it. 

The truck stopped with a violent jerk, sending up a cloud of dust. Natalia wrenched her hand from beneath Napoleon’s and jumped off the truck. She made it only a few feet before Napoleon captured her in his arms again. 

“Get off me!” She said angrily while jerking away from him. Natalia dug her elbow into his stomach. 

Napoleon swallowed the hit and continued to grip her tightly. “Give me back the egg,” he said. He was mindful about how he gripped her. Solo didn’t want to injure her in the process of getting the case back. 

Illya and Gaby jumped out of the truck and watched the two struggle in confusion before they intervened. Illya grabbed at the case while Gaby trained her gun on the thief. 

“How did she get here?” Illya asked Solo. Napoleon tilted his head and lifted his brows in response.

“Who are they?” Natalia asked Solo. Her eyes were fastened on Gaby who still held the gun on her. 

“They are U.N.C.L.E.,” Waverly’s voice rang out from behind them. Gaby lowered her gun and Napoleon loosened his grip on Natalia and rotated them around to face his boss. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Povlovsky,” Waverly said with a pleasant smile. “I’m Alexander Waverly. Your new commanding officer. Well, temporarily.” 

“What?!” They all yelled at once.


	8. Nasty Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “These are very serious charges, Ms. Povlovsky,” Waverly said in his soothing British accent. Perhaps if he tried another approach he might get some results. Waverly found the need for freedom proved to be a good motivator. “The racketeering charges alone are enough to put you away for a terribly long time.”

_The American Embassy_

The dossier he had on Natalia “The Cat” Povlovsky was thick. Thanks to his man at INTERPOL, Waverly was thoroughly versed on his most recent recruit. The arrangement was temporary, but she was one of his for the moment. As much as he would have liked to keep Natalia for the team, INTERPOL had been tracking her for some years. Thanks to Solo, they had finally captured the elusive cat burglar who managed to escape them at every turn. _Sometimes it takes a thief to catch a thief_ , he thought to himself. Waverly studied the woman with weary eyes. They were confined to his temporary office at the American Embassy for over an hour. She barely uttered two words to him. He didn’t blame her. She was going to go to prison for a very long time. He looked down at the dossier again. There were enough charges to put her under the jail.

Grand Larceny   
Conspiracy to commit larceny   
Money laundering   
Racketeering (all lesser charges included)  
Reckless endangerment  
Public endangerment   
Conspiracy to aid a foreign government   
Accessory to terrorism   
Aiding and abetting   
Obstruction of Justice 

Some of the charges were decades old. Despite her mile-long rap sheet, Waverly felt compassion toward the woman. Growing up in Stravopol, Russia in the 30s couldn’t have been easy. Natalia Mishka Povlovsky was born in 1931 in one of the most impoverished cities in the country. Her mother died just five years later of consumption. Natalia’s father, Sergei Povlovsky was a hard-working man, but he never seemed to make enough to sustain his family. As a result, Natalia began her criminal career at the tender age of seven. She started off as a petty thief. It began with Pick pocketing and shoplifting until she graduated to breaking entries. At nine years old, her uncle Otto Povlovsky took her under his tutelage and began teaching her the art of lapidary. Natalia became quite accomplished at recognizing gemstones. There were rumors that she could spot a fake with the naked eye. Otto used his nieces special set of skills to increase his business by re-cutting and selling her fenced jewels. 

Uncle Otto taught her well and soon Natalia branched out on her own. Although she wasn’t born rich, the thief became adept at insinuating herself in the glittering social circles of the ultra-rich. Over the years she amassed quite a bit of wealth on her own and moved her ailing father from the bitter poverty he faced in Russia, to the sandy shores of Cuba. Sergei felt right at home in communist Cuba and Natalia was content enough to try her hand at retirement. Her retreat from a life of crime was short lived. When Cuba acquired the plans for the most powerful weapon in the world with no way of using it, Sergei found himself in a Cuban prison. And Natalia was forced out of retirement. 

“These are very serious charges, Ms. Povlovsky,” Waverly said in his soothing British accent. Perhaps if he tried another approach he might get some results. Waverly found the need for freedom proved to be a good motivator. “The racketeering charges alone are enough to put you away for a terribly long time.” 

Natalia jerked her head away from him. She already thought of ten different ways she could escape. Waverly wasn’t an old man, but he was no spring chicken. She could take him. The air vent was the most plausible means of escape. But then she could find herself in the men’s restroom on the third floor. 

“I’ve managed to avoid jail this entire time, Mr. Waverly,” Natalia said. Her voice was tense. “I think I can manage.” 

“Then I understand seeing your father again isn’t very important to you?” 

Of course it was! The _only_ reason she got caught up in this nonsense was to save her father from rotting in one of Castro’s dungeons. He was innocent in all of this. Natalia’s shoulders sagged and she shifted in her chair, avoiding eye contact with him. 

“And what about your uncle? Otto, is it?” Waverly pretended to glance down at her file again. “I understand he has a very lucrative diamond exchange that you help with.” 

Natalia scoffed inwardly. It had been years since her involvement with Otto's business. There was no way they could link her to him. She was a child when she began her career as a jewel thief. What proof could they possibly have on her? Still, she didn’t want to see Otto thrown in jail because she got caught with her pants around her ankles. They still spent Christmas Holiday with each other. Her aunt Zoya was like a second mother to her. Natalia weighed her options. They were paper thin. If she went to jail, her father would either die alone in Cuba or they’d kill him. Her uncle Otto would go to jail, too. She was in a no-win situation. Natalia let out an audible sigh. Life in prison or a life working for whatever this poor man’s version of INTERPOL was. Either way, her freedom wouldn’t come free. 

“What do you want me to do?” She said decisively. 

The lines in Waverly’s face creased into a deep smile. “We want you to continue as planned. As you know, the egg was a dud. No code. We still need it.” 

“And you want me to steal it for you?” 

“Not exactly, no…” Waverly tucked her file into the top drawer of his desk. “We want you to pretend you are. As far as the Cuban government is concerned, you’re still on the job. We want you to continue that charade.” 

Natalia nodded. “Okay… and then what?” 

“We’ve gathered very good Intel about the whereabouts of Kirkoff. We believe if we put our efforts into locating him, we can end this sooner than later. That’s where you come in. I’ll explain more with the rest of the team present.” 

Right. The “team”. “You mean Solo and those other two?” 

“Yes. Gabby and Illya are quite capable. Illya is Russian, too. I think you all will get along. You and Solo seemed to have hit it off,” he said with a knowing smile. 

Napoleon Solo. He was the reason she was in this mess. If she had followed her instincts the night they met at the DiMarco party she would be on a plane and not in this broom closet Waverly tried to call an office. “And I’ll be working for you directly from now on?” 

“Not quite. I might have forgotten to mention it earlier in all the excitement, but this arrangement is purely temporary.” 

“So, you’ll be throwing me in jail whether I help or not.” 

“No. I have no jurisdiction in that department. But I can make recommendations. You’re sort of on loan to me from my good friends at INTERPOL. Once our mission is complete, I’ll have to transfer you back to their command.” 

“Back?” she spat. “I don’t ever recall working for INTERPOL.” 

“Well, that’s something that you’ll have to take up with them. But if you want my unsolicited advice, Ms. Povlovsky, I’d say take the deal.” Waverly nodded to emphasize the importance of that “deal.” 

Natalia sat stonily before she spoke once more. “Fine. When do we start?” 

Waverly clapped his hands together once. “Ah so glad that nasty bit of business is over,” he said with relief. “We’ll all have a briefing shortly. Not in here,” he said when he saw her look around the cramped make-shift office. “I’m still working on securing a conference room.” Natalia lifted a questioning brow causing him to flush. “In the meantime, I imagine you and Napoleon have some things to discuss.” The agent pressed a small brown button on his desk. 

“Yes, Mr. Waverly,” a voice came over the intercom. 

“Mrs. Branch, can you please send Mr. Solo in my office.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Waverly,” the receptionist said, before disconnecting the intercom. 

“I don’t think this is necessary,” Natalia said. She had nothing to say to the man who cost her, her freedom. 

“Oh, but I think it is,” Waverly insisted before the door to his office opened and Napoleon walked in. 

“Waverly,” Napoleon greeted his commanding officer. 

Alexander flashed a broad smile. “I thought it would be best if you and Ms. Povlovsky got better…acquainted with each other professionally." He looked between the two of them before continuing. "Now that you will be working very closely with each other," He said before slipping out of the office. 

The door closed behind them with a soft click. Natalia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Natalia I—” Solo started. 

“No need for apologies, Mr. Solo. You were only doing your job.” 

Napoleon retreated from his original approach and smirked at her. “Good. Then you understand completely I had little control over this.” 

Natalia whipped her head around, so she could glare at him. “You planned this the entire time!” Natalia rose from her chair to square off with him. “You roped me into your little, ‘I’m out of retirement lie’ so you could lure me into your trap. How much do you get for me? 30 thousand? 50?” 

Napoleon shook his head. “I didn’t receive anything, because you weren’t the mission. The egg was.”

“Then I’m merely collateral damage, huh?” 

They were both silent for a moment. Natalia didn’t take her eyes off him. She wanted to look into the face of her capture and remember it forever. She was furious. But under the anger, she was hurt. Natalia hadn’t allowed herself to feel it earlier, but now that she was alone with him again, she did. They’d only spent one night with each other, but she thought there was something kindred between them. She had sorely misjudged him. 

"You lied to me about being the police,” her voice was like a dagger piercing the silence between them. 

Napoleon held up a hand. “Well, now, that’s untrue. _I_ never lied to you.” 

“You said you weren’t INTERPOL.” 

“And I’m _not_ INTERPOL. I’m U.N.C.L.E.” 

Natalia sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Same thing.” 

“Hardly.” 

“You arrest people, right? 

“Yes—"

Take away their freedom? 

“Well—” 

Ruin their lives?” 

“Yes, but— Ruin lives? I wouldn't go--” 

“Sounds the same to me.” 

“Alright, maybe there are _some_ similarities. But anyone who gets taken in deserves it.” 

Natalia’s eyes widened with disbelief. Of all the unmitigated gall! “You’re one to talk! You’re exactly like me, Solo. A thief.” Natalia began to pace as she spoke. “So, what did they do? Catch you with your hands in the cookie jar? Or did you decide to play for the other team?” 

Solo sat on the edge of Waverly’s desk and watched her rage out before speaking casually. “I was caught and recruited by the CIA. That’s where I’ve been the last five years, not in retirement. About eight months ago I was recruited by U.N.C.L.E. where I will serve out the rest of my sentence.” 

Natalia rolled her eyes again. Oh, this was rich. “And the entire time with me… that was all an act to get to the egg?” 

Napoleon’s gaze flickered away momentarily. “The egg was part of my mission, yes,” he said carefully. 

Natalia wanted to press more, but she knew some questions shouldn’t be asked. Not if you don’t _really_ want the answers.   
“But I think you should know,” Solo added. “It was never my intentions to get you caught. Had you not tried to double-cross me at Bernini’s, I would have found a way to stall long enough to give you time to get out of the country.” 

“ _Me_ double-cross _you_! You double-crossed me first," she said. 

That was a fair assessment. Solo had stolen the diamond back from her. “Only after you planned on double-crossing me. Don’t deny it, because I would have done the same if I were in your shoes.” 

He was right. She had never planned on working with him to steal the egg. Her father’s life depended on her retrieving what was inside of it. In her mind, the diamond-crusted thing was worthless compared to her father’s life. “And now here we are, walking in each other’s shoes. Poetic.” 

Silence fell over them again. She was still incensed. But there wasn’t anything either could do. He couldn’t change the past. She couldn’t escape her fate with INTERPOL. This was her new life. And if this meant keeping her father safe, she would have to deal with it like an adult.

“Well, now that we’re working together,” she said interrupting his thoughts. “I suppose we should establish some ground rules.” 

Napoleon lifted a brow. “What do you mean?” 

“We’re professionals, Solo. Teammates now. So, none of that,” she flicked her hand between them to indicate the other night. For a moment she thought he looked disappointed. 

“Why? It’s not like we’d be breaking any of the rules.” Napoleon paused for a moment. “You aren’t Catholic, are you?” 

Natalia rolled her eyes. “You _know_ why. Besides, that was all part of my plan.” The lie tasted sour on her lips.

Even after everything that transpired between them, she still found him attractive. Perhaps in another life, they could have met under different circumstances. Maybe they would have teamed up together in truth. Maybe they would have gotten along with each other and spent their lives--

“On second thought, you’re right. That was all part of my plan, too.”

“Good. Then we understand each other.” 

“I’d say so.” 

Natalia sighed heavily. Less than twenty-four hours ago she had held the most precious gemstone known to mankind in her hand. Today, she was a secret agent with one foot in jail. Life was so unpredictable at times. “Well, now it's settled. Let’s find Waverly. He’s supposed to debrief us on the rest of the mission.” 

Napoleon straightened himself up and walked the short distance to the door. Natalia wished she knew what he was thinking in that pretty, little head of his. He was very good at keeping his cool. She thought he would make a wonderful poker player. Napoleon opened the door for her. She had to squeeze between it and his sturdy frame. 

“After you,” he said with a pleasant smile. 

Natalia’s body brushed his and her knees grew weak. Keep it together, she scolded herself as she moved passed him.


	9. Get to the Source

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wasn’t jealous. No, of course not. What did _she_ have to be jealous of? Never mind that Natalia had legs that were about a mile long or that she dripped with sophistication. Who cares that she could speak Russian? Or that both her partners were looking at her as if she hung the moon and the stars in the sky. There was nothing to be jealous of.

They had a new team member. A beautiful new team member. A beautiful _Russian_ team member. Gaby studied Natalia and Illya from her perch on the cracked leather sofa in the conference room. _Don’t they look cozy_ , she thought to herself. Illya said something to Natalia in Russian making the thief (no, former thief) tilt her head back and laugh. It was husky and dark, and wildly inappropriate. _Heheheheheh_ , Gaby internally mimicked her laughter. What was so damn funny? 

Her eyes flickered toward Solo. He was casually flipping through an American made magazine ignoring the Russians. Rather, he was doing a good job pretending to ignore them. Solo sat with one leg crossed over the other. His meticulously polished shoes shook to its own frantic beat. A slight smiled pulled at the corner of Gaby’s lips. At least she wasn’t alone. Her eyes narrowed into dangerous slits when Natalia rested her hand on Illya’s chest. Solo flipped the magazine page with extra care. 

“I see you all have become better acquainted,” Waverly said. He entered the conference room with a cheerful smile. A lanky young man trailed behind him carrying a projector with a stack of files on top. 

Gaby shifted her gaze away from Illya and Natalia and looked out the window. Waverly’s eyes flickered between the foursome, oblivious to the growing tension in the cramped room. “Well, let’s begin, shall we? Everyone this is Dunkin Holt. Dunkin will be assisting me with our briefing.” 

“Is he U.N.C.L.E., too?” Natalia said looking the young man over. 

“N-no, I’m—" Dunkin began. His face turned red to the roots of his orange hair. 

“Dunkin’s on loan from the American Embassy,” Waverly answered for him.

“You seem to borrow a lot of things that don’t belong to you, Mr. Wavery,” Natalia said. She found a seat at the center of the conference table and sat down. 

Gaby snorted softly. _She was one to talk._ Natalia’s entire career was built on taking things that didn’t belong to her. _Including Illya._ Her eyes flickered back over to him. The Russian spy was winding the hands on his father’s watch oblivious to Gaby’s change in mood. At least he was through acting like a smitten schoolboy. Waverly looked in Gaby’s direction and followed her gaze back to the Russian spy. A slight frown creased his brow. 

The director cleared his throat and grabbed one of the files on top of the projector. “You could call me a collector of sorts,” he retorted. “Dunkin,” Waverly said to the projectionist. 

The young man fumbled with tangled cords and switches. “Just a second. I think it's busted.” 

Gaby rolled her eyes and snapped to her feet. She marched over to Dunkin and grabbed the jumble of cords out of his hands and began to untangle them. Done, she tossed the additional cord and connected one end of the extension to the projector. The other fit into the socket on the wall behind the young man. Dunkin stood awkwardly as she reached around him to plug it in. “There. Now it works,” she said, flipping the on switch. The exposed wall at the front of the conference room lit up into the shape of a square. 

Waverly clapped his hands together. “Great! Now we can get to the business of recovering that code.” 

Gaby flounced back to her seat. There! They had to see that she was irreplaceable. Illya’s hands paused over his watch and he looked up in time to see her intense gaze on him. The Russian spy shifted in his seat and looked away. Solo, observing the brief exchange between the two veteran partners, shook his head. He laid his magazine down on the conference table and bridged his hands together. 

“So, what’s this new mission? And on a scale of one to ten how likely are we to come out of this in one piece?” Solo asked Waverly. 

Their director let out a pitchy, nervous laugh. “Don’t be so dramatic, Solo. You don’t want to scare off your newest team member.” Waverly glanced over at Natalia.

“Russian spy never scare easily,” Illya interjected. He and Natalia shared a familiar look from across the table. 

“Never,” Natalia agreed. 

Gaby rolled her eyes. “Oh, can we just get on with it.” Her tone was sharp with annoyance. 

She wasn’t jealous. No, of course not. What did _she_ have to be jealous of? Never mind that Natalia had legs that were about a mile long or that she dripped with sophistication. Who cares that she could speak Russian? Or that both her partners were looking at her as if she hung the moon and the stars in the sky. There was nothing to be jealous of. Gaby shifted uncomfortably in her seat again. Up until Natalia, Gaby was the woman on the team. The real brains of the operation. Now there were two women. She worried it would alter the dynamic of her relationship with her partners. Or it could do them all some good to have a little less testosterone floating around. 

Wavery cleared his throat. “Yes, yes, let’s get on with it. Dunkin, the lights.” The young man scrambled to flip off the switch, casting the room in dim shadows. “I’ll go over the mission briefly to get Natalia up to speed,” he began. “You all should be familiar with Maximilian Kirkoff.” A black and white image of the German scientist appeared on the wall in front of them. “We just learned that six months ago Kirkoff defected from a criminal organization known as THRUSH. He was their leading scientist.

“THRUSH? What does that stand for?” Napoleon asked. 

Waverly colored sheepishly. “To be determined.” 

“UNCLE, THRUSH, CIA, it’s like alphabet soup,” Natalia said. 

“Yes, well…” Waverly cleared his throat again. “Anyway, when Kirkoff defected from THRUSH he took the specs for the bomb with him. A bomb that is supposedly far more powerful than any explosive known to man. If detonated this bomb could destroy an entire continent. Kirkoff auctioned the plans to the highest bidder on the Black Market. Cuba won the bidding war.” 

Waverly glanced at Natalia. A pained expression crossed her face and she briefly looked away from the projection. “In a play to gain a more substantial profit, he hid the code to the bomb in one single Fabergé Egg. There are currently ten eggs in circulation now worth millions of dollars because of what each may hold inside. Yesterday, we learned the egg Solo and Natalia stole was a dud. Which means we need to go to the source himself, Kirkoff, and retrieve the code. Without the code, the bomb is nothing but a useless shell.” 

“And how do I fit in this equation?” Natalia asked. The dim light from the projection cast a shadow on her face, making her expression hard to read in the darkness. 

_Yes, how did she fit into this_ , Gaby thought to herself. 

“Good question!” Waverly’s cheeks spread into a toothy grin. “Which brings me to my next point. Sergei Povlovsky.” Waverly hitched his chin toward the projection prompting Dunkin to change the image.

Another black and white picture appeared on the wall. This time, a swarthy, tall gentleman took Kirkoff’s place. The man was wearing cabana pants rolled at the ankles as he stood in shallow ocean water. He had dark, windblown hair streaked with gray and a strong jawline. His unsmiling face stared directly into the camera. Natalia looked away from the photo. She had taken that picture a year ago right after her father settled down in Cuba. She thought he would be safe in the small bungalow house that overlooked the ocean. Sergei was safe until the Cuban government learned of his connection to her. Natalia’s stomach twisted into knots at the thought of him rotting away in a small dirt cell. They had only let her see him for a few brief minutes before whisking him away.

“Sergei Povlovsky, born in Stravopol in 1902 to Alexi and Sasha Povlovsky.” Waverly paused while the rest of his team all turned to give Natalia questioning stares. “Sergei went on to become a master of props and makeup for the Russian film company, Sverdlovsk Films. You can see his work in such fare as Boris Takes the Bank.” 

“That was _your_ father?” Illya asked impressed. “Such underrated film.” 

Gaby’s gaze connected with Solo and they both rolled their eyes. Natalia looked pleased that someone recognized her father’s work. Sergei Povlovsky had taken much pride in his craft and Natalia’s skills were a product of her father’s training.

“After Kirkoff hid the code, the Cuban government decided they were no longer interested in playing the German’s game of hide-and-seek.” 

“They used my father to get to me,” Natalia interjected.

“Right. Once the government learned they had the most accomplished thief in their mist—.” Solo cleared his throat and gave Waverly a pointed stare. “ _One_ of the most accomplished thieves in their mist,” the director amended. “They were able to use him as leverage.” 

Solo swiveled his head around to get a better look at Natalia in the dim room. “So, that’s why.”

Natalia nodded her head. “It’s the only reason why I’m involved. I don’t care about any of this. I just want my father back safe and sound.”

“We will get your father back, Natalia,” Waverly assured her. “As long as you continue to play your part, we should all have our happy ending.”

Solo’s eyes cut across the room toward the former thief. “Right,” he said sardonically. 

“I’m still not sure what you need from me, Mr. Waverly. Every moment that I sit here is another moment that someone else could get that code. My father is rotting away in jail. And if I don’t get it for them soon, they will kill him.” 

“This will not happen,” Illya spoke up at last. His expression turned dark when Natalia mentioned her father rotting away in prison. 

“As part of this mission, we need you to continue to let the Cuban government think you are still on the job,” Waverly said. “I’d like you to contact whoever it is that handles your—you and let them know the egg was a false lead. Tell them you’ve tracked down the next egg and you're on your way to retrieving it. Meanwhile, I want you all deployed in Austria by tonight.”

“What’s in Austria?” Gaby asked. 

“We believe that’s were Kirkoff has been operating.” 

“So, the new target is the source itself. What about the code that’s in the egg?” Napoleon stood from the table.

“Dunkin, lights,” Waverly instructed. A few seconds later, harsh florescent light flooded the room. The director blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the change in brightness. “We’ll worry about that bridge when we get there. In the meantime, let’s track Kirkoff. Get the code from him. Once we have that in our possession, we can figure out what do to about the bomb.” 

“And my father?” Natalia’s face creased with worry. 

“And of course, we’ll get your father back safely. I just need you to cooperate, Ms. Povlovsky. You do that, and I’ll make sure my report to INTERPOL leaves them with no doubt that your time is better spent outside of a jail cell.”

++++

The small aircraft dipped low as it hit another air pocket. Illya’s clammy fingers curled around his armrest. His eyes focused on the seat directly in front of him. The plane shifted again. Illya mumbled a string of curses under his breath. He wasn’t afraid to fly. But he was apprehensive about flying in a plane that had recently rolled off the assembly. The Beechcraft King Air was the top of the line in small airplanes. Illya peered out of his window. The plane cut through white fluffy clouds as it soared over snow-capped mountain peaks. He tried not to think of the plane plunging into the jagged rocks below. Instead, he focused on the sound of the plane engine and rested his head against the leather seat cushion. 

Solo and Natalia were at the front of the plane with Waverly while she contacted her Cuban handler. Illya trained his eyes on the back of Gaby's chair. She seemed so upset with him for some inexplicable reason. The Russian couldn't understand why. He tried to think of something he could have done to anger her and came up empty. Knowing she was angry with him made Illya feel uneasy. In the months since they partnered together, she had never given him the cold shoulder. There were times when they irritated each other. But that never lasted long. They were good together-- they worked good together. 

Illya's fingers toyed with the cellophane-wrapped sweets he purchased earlier on their mission. He eyed the back or Gaby's head and sighed. The plane was stable. The bout of turbulence had simmered, and the plane no longer shuttered and jerked around. Illya unbuckled his safety belt and took the opportunity to stand to his feet. He made his way to the center of the plane where she sat alone flipping through Solo's magazine. Illya cleared his throat and waited for her to acknowledge him. Gaby continued to turn the glossy pages of the book ignoring him. Illya cleared his throat again. 

Gaby looked up and stared at him wordlessly. "Yes?" 

"May I sit?" 

She glanced at the empty seat beside her then back at him. "It's a free country. You can do what you want." 

Illya's fingers clenched around his peace offering. Ignoring her, he sat down in the empty seat and placed the package of Italian confections on her tray table.

"What's this for?" 

"You," he answered simply. "I know how much you enjoy these…" he struggled to find the name of the sweets. 

Gaby softened momentarily and touched the package with delicate fingers. She played with the yellow ribbon he had tied around it. Natalia's voice carried towards them from the front of the plane and making Gaby snatch her hand away.

"Why don't you give them to _her_.” She hitched her chin towards their newest team member. 

Illya looked down at the chocolate treats confused. “She likes these… bon, bons, too?” What were the odds? He knew Gaby had a soft spot for chocolate. He’d observed her snacking on candies on several occasions. His eyes flickered toward Natalia. He’d only known the woman for a few hours. He had no idea what she preferred. 

“They are not for her. They are for you.” 

Gaby rolled her eyes again. “It doesn’t seem like it.”

Illya studied Gaby’s face. He didn't recognize her pinched expression. What the hell did he do? _Women._ “Fine. If you don’t like,” he said snatching the package away. Illya stood up stiffly. 

“Illya, wait—” Gaby called out as he made his way toward the front of the plane. The Russian paused and turned to face her. Gaby’s lips parted to say something more before they snapped them shut with a soft click of her teeth. Her dark eyes searched his. “Never mind,” she mumbled. 

Illya shook his head and made his way to the front of the plane. He tossed the package of chocolate at Solo before snatching open the door to the cockpit. Solo caught the candy with deft hands. 

“Is everything alright, Peril?” he asked. 

“Nyet," Illya muttered before disappearing inside to join Waverly and the pilots.

Natalia looked between her new partner and the door to the cockpit. “What did I miss?” 

Solo shook his head and laid the chocolate aside. “I have no idea. You’ll get used to Peril and his moods eventually.” 

“Peril?” Natalia lifted a brow and studied Solo. “I wonder what kind of nickname you’ve come up for me. Let me guess. Comrade. No, that’s too typical. How about Natasha?” she mocked. 

“Or just Natalia,” Solo answered. “Up until a few days ago, I only knew you as ‘The Cat.” 

Natalia leaned against her chair and spread her arm around the back of the sofa seat. “You mean you don’t have little nicknames for all of us?”

He shook his head. Illya was a unique case. It never occurred to him to give a nickname to Gaby or anyone else. “No, but if you’d like one, we can discuss it further this evening over a drink in my room.”

Natalia made a short scoffing noise and recrossed her legs. “In your dreams, Solo. Don’t think because we’re stuck together on this mission that I’ve changed my mind. You’re the reason I’m in this mess in the first place.” 

“I beg to differ,” he argued. Her words were sharp, but her eyes glittered teasingly. “The way I see it, if I hadn’t come along, you would have been locked up in INTERPOL’s custody.” He knew he was partly responsible for Natalia’s capture. But Solo was unwilling to take full responsibility. She double-crossed him. These things happened. 

“Is that so?” 

“Yes. INTERPOL has been on your tail for years. It was only a matter of time.” 

“Like with you?” She quipped. 

Solo took no offense. His luck had run out just like others before him.

In their line of business things usually ended in three ways. Death, capture and if you were lucky, retirement. They both had drawn the short straw. “It’s not a terrible life, Natalia. Once my debt to society is paid, I’ll be free to do what I want again.” 

She looked out the window into the distance. Solo studied her tense expression. He knew Natalia’s first concern was her father. That revelation was still a shock to him. He knew she had a father, parents. But it was something one didn’t think about. The Cat having parents was an abstract concept to him. Seeing her father on that screen came as a bit of shock. Solo wondered what caused the change in modus operandi. The Cat was not a thief for hire. He and Natalia were the same in many ways. Looking at a side by side comparison of their criminal careers, they were nearly identical. 

“If losing my freedom means my father is safe, then I don’t care,” she said finally. 

Solo was silent for a moment. He had no words of comfort to offer to her that wouldn’t sound placating. He wanted to tell her again that his intentions were never to have her taken into custody. She double-crossed him, but that wasn’t enough of a reason to have her arrested. He liked her. Under the escalating sexual tension, he found himself admiring Natalia for the woman beneath the shroud of mystery that surrounded her. 

If he wasn’t careful… 

Solo cleared his throat. “We’re going to do everything we can to free him. That I can promise you.”


	10. In Plain Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trees cleared away, opening back up to the clear, white slopes. Napoleon broke through the opening at the same time he did. The two spies managed to get ahead of Kirkoff. Illya watched as Napoleon pivoted on his skis to face their opponent. He tossed his pole aside and reached inside his Parker.

Maximilian Kirkoff was a man who enjoyed the finer things in life. His base of operation in Austria wasn’t the back-alley hole Solo expected. Instead, the team from UNCLE found themselves at Sölden. A ski resort that overlooked gleaming, white snow-capped mountains and plush ski hills. As far as locations go, Solo appreciated the scenery (for more reasons than one). His gaze fell on Natalia. The Russian beauty was dressed head to toe in a white snowsuit that fit to perfection. She completed her outfit with a white, fur Cossack that made her look even more foreign and exotic. They all looked good. Even Peril. 

The foursome sat in the great hall of the ski lodge together. To outsiders, they were two couples on a ski holiday. Upon closer inspection, they would notice Illya’s shrewd unblinking stare trained on the main entrance. Or the way Solo sat at the ready. They all had the same objective, bring in Maximilian Kirkoff alive. Waverly was sure to emphasize the word _alive_ when he gave his orders to Illya and Solo.

Solo stood at the concierge desk and waited his turn. He’d already worked out what he was going to say to the German hostess in charge of guest relations. The spy plastered on his most charming smile and moved up the line. 

“Hello, I’m Nick Dempsey,” he introduced himself using the same name from Rome. It was easier for him to remember. 

“Good Afternoon, Mr. Dempsey.” The woman spoke English with a heavy German accent. “How can I help you?” 

Solo leaned against the desk as if he was about to share something very confidential. “I’m looking for someone. An old friend of mine. He goes by Kirkoff, Maximilian Kirkoff. I need to know what room he’s staying in.” 

The concierge frowned and shook her hair. “I’m sorry, Mr. Dempsey, I’m afraid I cannot give you that information.” 

“Really? You see, Maxi and I made plans to meet here at this resort this weekend. I’m sure of it. And try as I might, I haven’t been able to find him. I know I’m asking you to break all the rules, but…” 

The girl glanced briefly to her left and right before she looked through the list of guests. “I’m sorry, Mr. Dempsey,” she said a few minutes later. “I don’t believe we have any Maximilian Kirkoff staying at this resort. Perhaps you are mistaken.” She gave Solo an empathetic look. 

Alright. He was going to have to try another tactic. Solo nodded his head and pretended to turn away. “Just one more thing,” he hedged. “Sometimes my friend likes to go by a different name. You know, for privacy reasons. Could his reservation be under a different name?” 

“I don’t know…” 

Solo placed his hands over his heart and gave her a wounded look. “Please, Johanna,” he said reading her name tag. “He and I served in the military together. We promised each other that if we made it out alive, we would meet here on this very weekend.” 

Johanna sighed and looked through the guest records again. After a few seconds, she motioned for him to come closer and whispered the name Kurt Voss in his ear. Solo took her hand in his and flashed another smile before kissing it.

“Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.” 

“Please don’t tell anyone what I’ve done. I could get into a lot of trouble, Mr. Dempsey.” 

“Oh, don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” 

The hostess smiled while she scribbled something on a slip of paper. She slid it across the desk toward him. Solo looked down at the cabin number she scrawled on it. “Is this his room number?” 

Johanna smiled. “No. It’s mine. I get off at seven,” she said before calling up the next guest. 

Solo looked down at the room number again. A few weeks ago, he’d have entertained it and Johanna for the night. Solo’s eyes darted toward Natalia, she was speaking casually to Gaby on the other side of the room. As much as he wanted to be interested in the number, he couldn’t muster a single reason to show up at seven. Only one woman that piqued his interest these days. Solo made his way toward the over sized fireplace. He furtively tossed the paper into the fire when he was sure Johanna wasn’t looking. The hostess didn’t notice. But Natalia did and a small smile tilted the corner of her lips. Solo watched the paper burn for a few moments before joining his team. 

“Well, what did she say after you finished flirting with her?” Illya asked. 

“If you must know, _I_ wasn’t the one doing the flirting,” Illya grunted. He didn’t believe him. “Anyway, Maxi is here. He’s assumed the name, Kurt Voss. The resort isn’t that big. We can track him down soon. In the meantime, keep your eyes open,” he said to his team. 

After spending an hour in the lodge, the team decided to take their surveillance to the slopes. Napoleon hadn’t noticed anything unusual. There was a man with dark skin and heavy mustache sitting alone in the den. But after watching him for a few minutes, the spy decided he wasn’t anyone of interest. 

According to some of the guests, “Mr. Voss” was an avid skier and spent most of his time mastering Sölden’s courses. The day was cold and crisp with the sun hanging in a cloudless blue sky. It was perfect for a day to be out on the slopes. If Napoleon wasn’t careful, he’d lull himself into thinking their stay at the resort was a _real_ holiday. It certainly felt like it. 

The men helped Gaby and Natalia unto the ski lift before joining them. Gaby let out an excited gasp as they soared over the resort’s breathtaking view. Napoleon bit back a smirk when he noticed she’d forgotten to stay upset with Illya. The two sat close together on the narrow wooden bench. Illya’s lips twitched with a secret smile. Napoleon shook his head. _Those two really ought to get on with it_ , he thought to himself. Beside him, Natalia used a small pair of gold binoculars to peer down at the other guests. 

“Casing the place?” he asked close to ear. 

Natalia let out a sultry laugh before answering, “Old habits. But no. I’m keeping an eye out on our scientist friend. Care to have a look?” She handed him the binoculars. 

Napoleon handled the gold-plated binoculars with care. The resort was popular with couples and families. The slopes were busy that day. He could see why Kirkoff had chosen it. _Hiding in plain sight. Smart._ Napoleon handed the field glasses back to Natalia and gazed over the mountain tops. For a moment, he imagined they were all friends; two couples on a winter holiday together. He glanced up at Peril and snickered to himself. Oh, who was he kidding? He and Peril friends outside of work? They were barely friends while on the job. The cozy atmosphere was clouding his sense of reality. 

“I think I see him!” Natalia alerted her teammates. 

“Where?” Gaby peered over Illya’s shoulder for a better look. 

“Just over there. In the blue.” Natalia pointed a gloved finger at the man she believed was Kirkoff. 

They all trained their eyes in the direction Natalia pointed. From that distance, Solo couldn’t be sure if it was him or not. The man in blue appeared to be the same height. It could be him. “Are you sure?”

“Nearly positive.” Natalia positioned herself to make the jump. 

“Peril and I should go,” Solo said. 

Natalia tossed back a look that said otherwise. “No. I think this needs a woman’s touch. Maybe even two. Gaby, shall we?” She asked her new partner. 

Solo and Illya watched speechlessly as the two women made the jump together. Illya’s body tensed. He didn’t take his eyes off Gaby until she landed safely on the snowy ground below. 

“She’ll be alright, Peril,” Solo assured him. 

“Of course.” There was a hint of pride in his tone. Gaby landed without so much of wobble. The two men watched their women ski toward Kirkoff. “We should stay close,” he said before leaping off the ski lift behind them. 

++++

Natalia skied like an expert Olympian toward her mark. A lot was riding on Kirkoff’s capture. Unlike the rest of her team, this was personal. She thought about her father again and wondered how Waverly would make good on his promise. Would they use Kirkoff as a bargaining tool to get her father back? It had also occurred to her several times that Waverly may be using her. Just as Solo had used her to get to the egg. Lately, her instincts were all askew. Until she had her father back safe and sound, her entire life was in a state of panic. 

“He’s over there,” Gaby said coming up beside her. 

They moved down the easy slope in tandem. Natalia wasn’t sure what they were going to do when they finally got to Kirkoff. But she had enough experience with men to know that it didn’t take rocket science. Men were easy. Kirkoff was standing with another man speaking casually in German. The two women hung off to the side and turned their backs toward him so they could strategize their next move. 

“How do you want to do this?” Gaby asked her. 

Natalia glanced back at their target. Natalia smiled down at Gaby. “Just do whatever it is you that makes Illya do that thing with his face.” 

“Wait, What thing?” 

Natalia tilted her head to the side. _Oh, come on. She had to know._ “You know, that thing,” She said before skiing toward Kirkoff again. 

Natalia wasn’t sure what she was going to do until she plowed right into the German scientist. They toppled over into the powdery snow together. She braced her hands on either side of his head and looked down at him. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized, scrambling to her feet. Natalia pretended to lose her balance again, forcing the man to steady her. 

“You should really watch where you’re going,” Kirkoff said annoyed. “This run is no place for armatures.” 

Natalia dusted some snow off her legs. “My apologies. First time.” 

Kirkoff looked at her with cold grey eyes. He looked at his friend and said something Natalia couldn’t understand. Oh, no, she had miscalculated this one. 

“Pardon my friend,” Gaby said in German once she was on top of the group of skiers. “She can be a little clumsy at times.” 

Kirkoff warmed to the sound of another German accent. “Perhaps you should keep a better eye on her then.” 

Gaby smiled and kept her eye on the man. “I try, but you know how silly us women can be.” 

Kirkoff and his friend laughed. “A woman who is self-aware. You don’t see that too often, do you, Friedrich? They laughed again. 

The two men turned away from the women and began to speak in German in hushed tones. Natalia looked between the Germans unable to decipher what they were saying. But her instincts told her the men were having a laugh at her expense. It didn’t matter. If all went to plan, she would have the last laugh.

“Often. try never.” The two men laughed again. “I’m Friedrich and that’s my friend Kurt,” the second man introduced himself. 

The group made their introductions. Natalia and Gaby didn’t bother giving them fake names. They didn’t plan on being in Austria long enough to leave a footprint. The man called Friedrich gave Gaby an approving once over. He leaned in and whispered something in his companions’ ear. Kirkoff glanced at Natalia and frowned before nodding his head. 

“My friend and I would like to know if you ladies will join us for an early dinner this evening,” Kirkoff said in English.

Natalia looked over at Gaby. The other woman gave a slight nod of her head. “We’d love to join you,” she answered. 

“Good. We’ll see you back at the lodge at 4 P.M., then?” he said.  
Natalia smiled. “Yes. We’ll be there.” 

“Auf Wiedersehen,” Kirkoff said. The two men bowed their heads slightly before taking off down the slope together. 

Natalia watched them until they became two blue dots in the distance. “That was close,” she said to Gaby. “I almost blew it.”

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll meet them at dinner and figure out a way to get that code from Kirkoff. 

“What was that all about?” Napoleon said, appearing out of nowhere with Illya close by his side. 

“We’ve got a date,” Gaby said proudly. 

“A date?” Illya’s face darkened. His hands clenched into two fists at his sides. 

Natalia’s eyes connected with Solo’s and the two of them shared a secret laugh. “Yes, thanks to Gaby. Whatever you said must have really impressed them.” 

“It was nothing.” She smiled at Natalia with an excited gleam in her eyes. “I wonder what we’ll wear.” 

“ _You_ won’t be wearing anything. Well, to dinner that is. Illya and I will take it from here.” 

“What?!” Natalia and Gaby spoke at once. 

“I agree with, Cowboy,” Illya said. “We will handle the men.”

“And what will you have us do? Sit around and braid each other’s hair?” Gaby asked. 

Illya shrugged. “If you want. It’s a free country,” he said repeating her words from earlier. 

Gaby rolled her eyes and made an exasperated sound. “Men!” 

Natalia shook her head. Typical. As much as she would have liked to get in on the action, She was relieved she wouldn’t have to go on the date. “We’re supposed to meet them at four,” she said.

“Alright, we have a dinner date.” Solo looked at Illya. “Make sure to wear something pretty,” he said to the other man. 

++++

Illya watched Kirkoff and his friend from the bar. The Russian spy waved off the bartenders offer for a drink and kept his eyes trained on his mark. He could see Napoleon sitting alone from the corner of his eye at the edge of the dining hall. The plan was to get Kirkoff alone and get the code from him by force if necessary. With Gaby and Natalia safe in their room, he and Napoleon were free to handle the German any way they saw fit. Waverly said to bring him back alive. He didn’t say unscratched. 

The one called Friedrich excused himself from the table. Illya gave Napoleon a slight nod and followed the man out of the formal restaurant. He trailed behind Friedrich at a safe distance down the hall and into the men’s room. The two men met at the latrine. Friedrich gave Illya a brief nod and turned to look straight ahead. Illya picked a spot on the wall and kept his eyes focused on it as Friedrich relieved himself. He waited until the man pulled himself out of his pants before using his forearm to cut across the man’s throat. 

Friedrich ducked in time to miss the powerful blow from connecting with his neck. Illya cursed under his breath and made another swing at the man’s face. This time it connected, sending him staggering back into a bathroom stall. Illya wrapped his hand around the top of the door frame and pulled his body upward before dealing out a sharp kick to the center of Friedrich’s chest. The man sagged down into the toilet with a painful groan. Illya shook his head. _Too easy_. He almost felt bad punching him again. The last blow left Kirkoff’s companion knocked out against the stall. Illya closed the door behind him. As he exited the bathroom another man walked in. 

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” 

The man tried to peer over Illya’s shoulder “I, uh, I’ll just wait a few.” 

“Good idea,” Illya said and made his way back to the restaurant. They didn’t have much time. 

As soon as he returned to the dining room, Napoleon stood to his feet. The American spy walked over to Kirkoff’s table and sat down uninvited. Illya watched the exchange from a distance. Napoleon said something to Kirkoff, causing him to frown. Sensing something was about to happen, Illya joined his partner at the table.

“I see you’re not alone,” Kirkoff said looking between the two men. 

“No. And like I said earlier,” Napoleon said calmly. “You can come with us quietly or—” 

“We can do this hard way,” Illya interjected. 

The German scientist looked between the two spies and smirked. “You two don’t scare me. What do you want? Whatever it is, I can assure you I don’t have it.” 

“The Code,” Napoleon said. 

“What code?” 

“ _The_ code. Don’t play dumb. He doesn’t like it when people play dumb.” Napoleon nodded toward Illya. 

Illya grunted and leaned forward menacingly. He started to say something when he noticed Gaby and Natalia walking into the restaurant. Didn’t they tell them to stay in their rooms! Women. Distracted, Illya looked up in time to see Kirkoff toss his drink in Napoleon’s face, stunning him. Illya stood up just as Kirkoff made a swing for his face, catching him in the jaw. He staggered back dazed by the punch. He shook his head to clear it. Kirkoff took that moment to push past the two spies, knocking Illya into a waiter. Dishes clattered to the floor and the waiter let out a string of German obscenities. Kirkoff ran toward Gaby and Natalia. The two women tried to block him, but he overpowered them, knocking Gaby to the restaurant floor. Furious, Illya stalked toward the exit. His face was placid but his eyes held a deadly glint.

Napoleon threw the napkin he used to wipe his face down on the table and followed behind his partner. “We told you to stay in your room,” he said as he passed the women. He didn’t give either of them time to respond. Solo followed Illya outside. It was still early, and the sun hadn’t set. People were still enjoying the slopes.

“Over there!” He pointed toward Kirkoff. 

The man was running toward the snowmobile rentals. They watched as Kirkoff pushed a woman off the back of the machine and forced the man she was with to drive at gunpoint. 

“Let’s go!” Illya said ahead of him. He grabbed a pair of skis, ignoring the owner and locked his boots into place. 

Napoleon shrugged apologetically and followed behind his partner. Kirkoff had a good head start, but the two men were close behind. They raced down the slopes cutting around oblivious guests. Illya leaned forward, forcing his weight to carry him even faster down the snowy hill. He was determined to get the man who momentarily bested him and knocked down his woman. He only had one target and it was just a few feet ahead of him. 

Kirkoff turned around stunned to see Illya so close. Panicked, the German reached inside of his coat and pulled out a gun. Wild shots rang out loudly as they flew down the mountain. Illya zig-zagged, avoiding the bullets. Solo did the same. 

“You go left!” Napoleon yelled once he was close enough for Illya to hear him. He motioned with his hands so his partner could understand. 

The Russian gave a curt nod of his head and leaned left. He cut down a second path and continued down the slope with trees to the left and right of him. He could see the snowmobile between the bare branches on the right. Kirkoff had gotten rid of the driver and was now manning the machine alone. _Good. Less casualties_ he thought. The trees cleared away, opening back up to the clear, white slopes. Napoleon broke through the opening at the same time he did. The two spies managed to get ahead of Kirkoff. Illya watched as Napoleon pivoted on his skis to face their opponent. He tossed his pole aside and reached inside his Parker. 

“No!” Illya yelled when he saw his partner pull his gun. Instead of shooting at Kirkoff, Solo shot at the tires of the snowmobile. The machine careened into a nearby snowbank. Illya turned his feet sending a cloud of snow into the air. He dug his ski pole into the ground until he was at a standstill. Without his pole, Napoleon continued down the mountain on his own. Illya watched his partner for a few moments. He’ll stop eventually, he thought. Illya leaned down and quickly unlatched his boots. At that moment, Kirkoff climbed out of the snow just as Illya freed himself. The two men took off running. With one long leap, Illya tackled Kirkoff down toward the snow. The two men grappled around on the floor until Illya got the upper hand. 

“No one touches my woman,” he said and slammed his fist into Kirkoff’s face knocking him out cold.


	11. This is How We Do It In Russia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Illya cleared his throat. “Maybe we should let the women handle this one,” his voice beamed with pride. He gazed at Gaby with admiration in his eyes. “Good strong slap. This is how we do in Russia.” Gaby smiled up at him as they shared a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my lovely beta for all your help! 
> 
> *Story is beta'd, but any mistakes are all mine

They all waited for Kirkoff to come to. Napoleon leaned casually against the mantel in Illya and his cabin. The Russian spy loomed over Kirkoff’s unconscious body. They tied the German scientist to a chair in the center of the room and watched him while he slept. There was a nasty looking knot at his temple and his eye was bruised where Illya had punched him. Solo admired Illya’s handy work. He had to admit, Peril’s propensity for violence often came in handy. Solo preferred to handle things a little more delicately. But then again, he’d been sliding off the side of a mountain with no way of stopping himself. It was just his luck that he eventually slowed down on his own. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened if he’d gone just a few feet further. 

“How long has it been?” Gaby asked from across the room. She and Natalia were leaning over a game of cards. 

“A little over an hour,” Illya answered. He didn’t take his eyes off Kirkoff. 

Errant drool slipped between the unconscious man’s lips. It didn’t look like he was coming to any time soon. “You didn’t kill him, did you, Peril?” 

Illya grunted in disdain. “If I wanted to kill him, he would be dead. He will wake up soon.” 

As if on cue, Kirkoff’s eyes began to flutter behind his closed eyelids. The German squirmed in the wooden chair once he realized he was restrained. “Where am I? Who are you people?” 

“We will ask the questions,” Illya grunted out. His voice was hard as he spoke to their prisoner. 

“And if I don’t answer?” 

“You will answer,” Gaby said. She stood to her feet and crossed the carpeted floor. Illya’s lips twitched as he tried not to smile. 

“Someone will come looking for me,” Kirkoff responded. 

Solo pushed himself off the mantelpiece and eyed the scientist. They didn’t plan on keeping him long enough for anyone to start a search party. Once they got the code, the plan was to hand him over to Waverly. Solo glanced over at Natalia. She looked strained as she stood with her fists clenched to her sides. 

“And when they do, they can either find you safe and sound or as a corpse. It’s up to you,” Solo said. He checked his nails casually as he spoke. 

Kirkoff sneered, his lips curled over perfect white teeth. “You think your threats scare me? I’ve faced much worse than you and two skinny little women.” 

“Hey!” Gaby and Natalia exclaimed at the same time. 

“I wouldn’t underestimate us if I were you Mr. Voss—Or should I say Kirkoff. We know exactly who you are. And you’ve got what we want.” 

“Then I believe that puts me at a unique advantage and you at a disadvantage.” 

Solo’s eyes swept over the restraints that kept Kirkoff seated. The last man who underestimated them ended up on fire. Solo sighed inwardly at the thought of his jacket. The smokey smell still lingered in the high quality fabric. “I don’t think so. You’re the one tied to a chair.” 

“What are you going to do? Torture me? I don’t have your code.” He smirked. 

Illya cracked his knuckles. “Lies.” 

“You have the code. Give it to us,” Natalia said forcefully. 

Solo recognized unchecked anger. He saw it every time Illya was about to lose control. He stepped between Natalia and Kirkoff. “You do have the code. Or you know where we can get it. Tell us and you might get out of this alive. Don’t and…” He glanced over at Illya. 

“You keep making the same threat. It means nothing to me.” 

Out of nowhere, Gaby crossed the room and laid a stinging slap across Kirkoff’s face, stunning everyone. The room went quiet as they all stared at Gaby in shock. In the many months they worked together, this was the first time she’d actually gotten physical with anyone. She used a gun before, but this was different. Solo knew that she and Illya had gotten close. But had the Russian spy rubbed off on her? Kirkoff shook his head. The slap was forceful enough to daze him. 

“Give us the code or I’ll—” 

Solo stepped forward and laid his hands on Gaby’s slight shoulders. “I think what my partner is trying to say is that you don’t have a choice in this.” Solo pulled Gaby to the side as he spoke. 

“What? Why did you stop me?” she whispered. 

“I think it might be best to let me and Peril handle this,” he whispered gently. Solo didn’t want to upset either one of the women. 

“Because you did so well the last time?” Gaby said defiantly. 

Illya cleared his throat. “Maybe we should let the women handle this one,” his voice beamed with pride. He gazed at Gaby with admiration in his eyes. “Good strong slap. This is how we do in Russia.” Gaby smiled up at him as they shared a moment. “Next time bring hand—” 

“Okay, let’s focus.” Solo rolled his eyes. “You two can make moon eyes at each other after we’re done with this whole affair.” He waved his hands casually as he spoke. 

“You are the people who are supposed to take me down?” Kirkoff said sardonically. He looked between the foursome with amusement in his cold gray eyes. Solo, Illya, Gaby, and Natalia all turned at once to look at him. “Who are you? Government agency rejects? Weak. Incompetent. Nobodies.” 

Before Solo could stop him, Illya’s fists connected with Kirkoff’s face, knocking him out cold once again.

Solo shook his head and let out a sigh. How long would they have to wait before Kirkoff gained consciousness this time? “You just had to punch him, Peril?" 

“He called us weak.” Illya shrugged. 

Solo glanced down at the unconscious Kirkoff again. It was going to be a long night. 

++++

Gaby poured herself and Natalia a drink from the bar in their cabin. The men were next door still trying to get information out of Kirkoff. “Here. You look like you could use one of these,” she said handing her new partner the glass. 

Gaby didn’t know Natalia very well, but she recognized the pensive look on her face. It was a mixture of fear, worry, and pride. The former cat burglar was trying hard to maintain her cool demeanor. She could relate. Months earlier she was in a similar situation with her father. The only difference was that Natalia’s didn’t abandon her. The two were close and his life was riding on the success of this mission. Natalia had made it perfectly clear that she only got involved because of her father. That was something else they had in common. Despite her estrangement from Udo Teller, he was still her father. Would she have gone gallivanting around the world stealing to get him back? Well, hadn’t she. 

“Thank you,” Natalia murmured, wrapping both sets of fingers around her glass. She walked over to the sofa and sat down without taking a sip. Instead, the Russian stared with unblinking eyes into the crackling fire. 

Gaby felt her heartstrings pull. They really did have a lot more in common than she initially thought. “They’ll get the code,” Gaby soothed, breaking the thick silence in the room. She sat across from Natalia on the opposite lounger. 

Natalia looked up from the fire. “How do you know?” She took a long drink and grimaced from the heat. 

“Because this is important,” Gaby said with confidence. “And because Solo cares about you.”  
Natalia made a scoffing noise and laughed mirthlessly. “I doubt it. He’s the reason why I’m here.” 

“Not by choice. I know him. He wouldn’t have turned you in. You were careless this time and it caught up to you.” 

Natalia’s head snapped up. She opened her mouth to say something and then shut it again with a soft click of her teeth. She took another drink. “How long have you been with U.N.C.L.E.?" 

Gaby’s lips tilted into a wistful smile. “Almost a year.” 

Natalia studied her through dark, brown eyes and nodded. “Well, I’m not sure about Solo’s intentions for me, but it’s clear that both men care about you. Especially Illya.” 

Gaby’s hands paused in mid air. “What do you mean? Of course we _care_ about each other. We’re partners.” 

“Oh, you can’t be that naïve,” Natalia said around a laugh. “How old are you? Twenty-five, Twenty-six? Old enough to know that when a man looks at a woman the way Illya looks at you it’s more than just work related.” Natalia stood up and walked to the wet bar to pour herself another drink. “The man is helplessly in love with you. Any fool can see that.” 

Gaby was quiet as she swirled the clear contents of her drink in the glass. There were times when she felt _something_ between herself and Illya. It hung between them, brimming with unspoken feelings they both tried to deny. They were partners. Anything more could complicate their relationship. But… now that someone _finally_ said it out loud, Gaby couldn’t help the path her mind began to take. She thought of their almost-kiss the first time they’d been in Italy. The time in France when they hid together for hours in a dark underground shelter. She had felt safe in his arms with her face buried in his chest. She still remembered the way his lips felt brushing against her temple. They had almost kissed then, too. That time it had been Solo that interrupted them. 

“Illya is too—” 

“Russian?” Natalia finished on a laugh. “Don’t let him fool you. Russian men are very passionate creatures. I know. I’ve been around them my whole life. He looks at you the way my uncle looks at his wife.” She smiled at the memory of her surrogate parents. “Like one minute he could kill you and the next he could write a sonnet about the color of your eyes.” 

Gaby ducked her head. All this talk about Illya’s feelings was making her uncomfortable. “Solo looks at you the same way.” 

“Solo looks at me the way every man has looked at me since I was fourteen.” 

Another point she could relate to. Once a girl begins to grow into a woman, the men always seemed to hover about like vultures. She remembered that all too well. It was one of the reasons why she became interested in cars. Men tended to overlook girls with grease on their faces and beneath their fingernails. 

“If you say so. I know him,” she repeated herself. “I’ve never seen a woman do to him what you do.” 

“So, there’s been a lot of women,” Natalia smirked. “Don’t worry. My feelings won’t be hurt.”

Gaby shrugged. “He likes the company of women. But none like you.” 

Natalia was quiet. “Well,” she said finally. “I’ll be done with this in a few days and he’ll have his life and I’ll have mine…” 

“If you say so,” Gaby said with a secret smile. She walked over to her bed and slid beneath the comforter. The crackling of the fire lulled her into sleep. She closed her eyes let thoughts of Illya carry her away. 

++++

Solo and Illya were able to sleep even with the smell of blood hanging in the air. They took shifts with Illya taking the first one while Solo slept. Kirkoff was unconscious again. The German scientist sat slumped over in the wooden chair. His hair was tousled, and bruises littered his face. Light snores escaped his swollen lips. They were close to breaking him. Solo stood beside the window and peered outside. Light from the moon filtered into their cabin, casting parts of it in dark shadows. Up on the mountain, the moon appeared bigger than usual. He was gazing at it thinking of Natalia, when something in the trees caught his eyes. Solo squinted his eyes and peered out into the darkness. He thought he saw someone lurking outside the cabin. He looked around the room and spotted his gun on top of the luncheon table. 

The air was cold and crisp. Solo hadn’t bothered with a jacket and stepped out into the snowy night with just his shirt and slacks. His boots crunched on the snow as he walked to the edge of the property line. He stared through the trees, but all he could see was darkness. _Must have been the wind_ , he scolded himself as he made his way back inside. The room was still. The sound of Illya’s breathing mingled with Kirkoff’s snores. Solo laid his gun on the table. Behind him, a figure melted from the shadows and wrapped a piano wire around his throat. A strangled sound escaped from his startled lips. 

“P-peril,” Solo barely squeezed out, but the Russian remained sound asleep as he got the life choked out of him. Of all the ways he imagined himself dying, he never imagined it would be like this. He lifted his hands to his throat and grappled at the thin wire around his neck. His assailant squeezed tighter as he struggled for air. Solo swung his arms back, connecting his elbow with his attacker’s stomach. The wire around his neck loosened allowing Solo to gasp for air.He took a swing at the man and fist connected with his face. 

“You’re going to—” Something pricked him on the side of his neck. Solo lifted his hand to touch it. He shook his head as his vision began to cloud. He needed to sit down and rest for a minute. The spy stumbled toward a chair, knocking a bowl of fruit off the table.

The ceramic bowl crashed to the floor waking Illya from his sleep. “Cowboy?” he called from across the room. 

“Peril,” Solo slurred. “Someone’s in the…” Solo never got to finish his warning. The American slumped over the table unconscious. 

The shadowy figure emerged from the corner and swung his fist toward Illya’s face. The spy ducked to the side averting the hit. He countered with a haymaker to the man’s gut. He grunted and fell back into a sofa tipping it over. Illya used that moment to pounce on the attacker. He grabbed him by the collar and lifted him to his feet. 

“Who sent you?” 

The man panted in Illya’s face and muttered something in Spanish. He struggled out of Illya’s grasp and the two men began to grapple with each other again. Illya took a hard punch to the jaw and fell back against the wall. He expected the man to take another jab. Instead, the man jammed a needle into Illya’s chest. The Russian looked down, wrapped his hands around it, and yanked it out. His eyes took on a hard glint. He leaned forward and reached for the man before falling on his face. 

++++

Illya blinked his eyes against the sun. A marching band was beating across his temple. He grunted and pushed himself up on his elbows. Across the room Solo began to come to. Illya looked over toward Kirkoff and jumped to his feet. The scientist was gone. 

“What happened?” Solo rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Our scientist escaped.” Illya’s voice was low with anger. 

Solo looked toward the empty chair and sighed. “Did you see who attacked us?” 

Illya nodded. “He had a mustache and beady eyes like yours.” 

Solo gave Illya a look. The furniture was overturned and broken, evidence of a struggled between them and their attacker. Illya picked through the broken furniture looking for anything that would give them a clue on where they could start their search. He looked at the clock on the wall. Whoever attacked them was long gone with Kirkoff. They were going to have a lot of explaining to do later when they checked in with Waverly. 

“Did he say anything? Napoleon asked. 

“Yes. But it was in Spanish. I don’t know what he said.” 

Solo cocked his head. “Spanish…?” 

Someone knocked on the room door. Solo put his finger to his lips and reached for his gun. “No room service,” he called through the door. 

“It’s us,” Gaby said. 

Solo opened the door for the two women and let them in. Gaby looked around at the mess, stepping over broken glass. She started to make a joke when she noticed Kirkoff was gone. 

“Where is Kirkoff?” Natalia asked, alarmed. 

“He’s gone,” Illya said in a stilted voice. 

“What do you mean he’s gone? You were supposed to be watching him,” she said. 

“Someone broke in last night and attacked us. We were nearly killed.” Solo rubbed his tender throat as he spoke. 

Natalia visibly softened once she noticed the bruises and welts on her partners’ necks and faces. She collapsed into the sofa and looked around at the mess. Illya wanted to assure her they would get Kirkoff back, but Gaby was giving him a strange look. Was that concern in her eyes? 

“I will contact Waverly,” he said. 

++++

“The man who attacked you is a Cuban operative,” Waverly began.

The group was gathered in Gaby’s and Natalia’s room waiting for their next set of instructions. Solo sat in his corner and rubbed his throat. Illya nursed his own wounds with Gaby close at his side. Natalia walked over to Solo and handed him a cup of warm tea. 

“For your throat,” she whispered to him and took a seat nearby. 

“We’ve gotten intel that Cuba is no longer interested in stealing the egg.” 

“They’re getting it straight from the horse’s mouth.” Solo sighed heavily. 

“Well, yes, they are. Which means the mission has changed. You all must go to Cuba, retrieve Kirkoff, the plans for the bomb, and Natalia’s father.” 

“Sounds easy enough,” Solo quipped. What started off as a search and retrieve was turning into a whole affair. Solo bit back and sigh and sipped his tea. The warm liquid soothed his raw throat. 

Waverly sniffed at Solo’s sarcasm and ignored him. He handed each member of the team a tan folder. Solo flipped his open and stared at the black and white photo. The man in the photo stared back with cold gray eyes. 

“The man in the photo is Dmitry Lukin. A Russian Diplomat who is scheduled to meet with Fidel Castro this week. His flight leaves early tomorrow morning from Russia. You will be on that flight.” 

Solo looked down at the photo and back at Illya. The resemblance was uncanny. There were noticeable differences but at a glance, the two men could pass as brothers. “Let me guess, you expect us to intercept him and take his place.” 

“Actually, no. We’ve already intercepted Lukin. He’s come down with a nasty stomach bug that should clear up in about twenty-four hours. In the meantime, Illya will be playing the role of the distinguished Russian Diplomat.” 

“I look nothing like this man,” Illya scoffed offended. The rest of the team bit back smiles. 

“His nose is a little longer,” Natalia spoke up. “That’s nothing a prosthetic can’t fix.” She walked over to Illya and squeezed his chin between her fingers. She tilted his head up then to the side. 

“Yes. That could work. And with a mustache…” 

Illya moved his face. “This will not work.” 

“It will have to,” Waverly said. “We need those plans and the code. Do any of you have a better plan?” They were all silent. “That’s what I thought. Natalia if you could work on  
transforming Kuryakin, we can have you on the first flight to Cuba.”

“Does Lukin have a wife?” Gaby asked.

Illya looked up from his file. His eyes connected with Gaby’s and a smile twitched at his lips. He turned his attention back to Waverly and waited. The director flipped through his file again. 

“Yes. He does. But—”

“Gaby will be my wife,” Illya said. Gaby tried to hide a small smile. 

“I don’t think that will be necess—” Waverly started. 

“Russian Diplomats often bring their wives,” Natalia interrupted. “He should have a woman on his arm.” She winked at Gaby and sat down.

Waverly looked at his team and sighed. What could he do? “Very well. Be ready to leave first thing in the morning. It’s going to be a long flight.”

 

Up Next: Part II The Cuban Affair


	12. The Cuban Affair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaby sighed and threw back her head in frustration. Illya’s eyes formed into thin slits as he shook his head. _Always_ , he thought to himself. Whenever he and Gaby got even a little bit closer to getting intimate, someone managed to interrupt them. It took every ounce of his willpower not shove the maid out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my wonderful Beta!
> 
> Any errors are mine :)

Havana, Cuba

Natalia worked hard to keep her nerves at bay. She always prided herself on her ability to keep a cool head under stress. Returning to Cuba under these circumstances was proving to be a challenge. The newly christened Russian Spy dawned her Givenchy sunglasses as she and Solo power walked through the busy Havana airport. If her calculations were correct, Illya and Gaby were already on their way their hotel. Natalia allowed herself a moment of pride at her handy work. Illya was a splitting image of the Russian diplomat he was posing as. Only a keen eye could tell the difference. 

“Are you alright?” Solo spoke close to her ear as they grabbed their luggage from the carousel.  
Natalia gave him a curt nod. “I’m fine,” she replied. The concern in his voice both comforted and irritated her. She didn’t want him to see that she was off balance. Solo had met the fabled Cat. Always put together. Never ruffled. Now was not the time for histrionics. But the warmth of his touch on the small of her back made her want to sink into it and _him_. 

“Peril and Gaby should be checking in by now. Our hotel is directly across the street. The  
trackers I placed on them will give us enough range to keep them well within our—” 

“I know. We’ve been over this. Are you always this chatty during a mission?” 

Solo opened the car door for her and ignored the waspishness in her voice. He acknowledged it for what it was. “No. But you could stand to relax a little. Trust me, you don’t want nerves getting the best of you.” 

Natalia continued to stare straight ahead as her partner navigated the narrow Havana streets. She knew he was right and hated that he could sense her emotions so well. “Who says I’m nervous?” she quipped. 

The corner of Solo’s lip twitched upward into a smirk. “ _I_ say. We may not know each other very well, Natalia, but I know people, and you aren’t doing as good of a job as you think hiding your feelings. The tension around you is so thick I can almost taste it.” 

Natalia sat silently for a few moments before rolling down her window. The weather was balmy and a light sheen of sweat began to coat her skin. She fiddled with the radio until she found a song she liked. They rode in silence, letting the sound of music fill in where conversation waned. 

“Your work on Illya was exceptionally well done,” Solo complimented, breaking the silence. 

Natalia turned her head slightly and allowed herself to smile. “Thank you. I spent most of my childhood watching my father work.”  
“It really is extraordinary. Did you ever consider making that your profession?” 

Natalia burst into sudden laughter. “Not at all. I’m not sure you’re aware, Solo, but a costume designer in low budget Russian films doesn’t exactly put you in the lap of luxury. 

“Hence why you took up ‘special acquisitions,’” he said, making Natalia laugh again. 

“I see what you’re trying to do, Solo.” Natalia worked to mask her features. 

Solo glanced her way and grinned. “Is it working?” 

Yes, it was working. It worked so well that she felt guilty for finding a moment to laugh when her father was locked up somewhere on the island. She hated herself for admiring the scenery as they drove through the city. Natalia shifted in the leather-bound chair and sobered up. She looked over at Solo again. She appreciated his attempt at bringing some levity to the situation even if it was a matter of life or death. Truthfully, she was wound up rather tightly. 

“How did you get into ‘special acquisitions?’” Natalia asked, ignoring his question. “The real reason,” she qualified. 

“No sob stories for me. I stole because it was fun. And I’m good at it.” 

Cocky. Natalia hated to admit it, but that was one of the things she liked about him. Long before she met Napoleon Solo, his reputation preceded him. He always managed to pull off some of the most impossible feats. She particularly admired the Rubens he stole. A man of his talents was wasted working for the government. 

“Work is always fun when it’s something you enjoy,” she said. 

“Indeed.” Solo brought the car to an abrupt stop. “And here we are.” 

Natalia looked up at the gilded hotel. It looked pricey. She wondered if INTERPOL would be so generous with their money. She could only imagine what one night in a hotel like this cost them. 

“Our room is on the top floor. Nothing but the best,” Solo said as he helped her out the car. 

“Our room?” Natalia lifted a carefully shaped brow. 

“Part of the cover,” Solo answered her casually. “We’re supposed to be on vacation.” 

Natalia glanced across the street. The hotel and Gaby and Illya were staying in was even more expensive than theirs. Natalia squinted at the signage across the front of the sprawling building. It was fitting for a Russian diplomat and his wife.  
The bellhop gathered their bags and showed them into the hotel. “Dinner is at six,” Solo reminded her. “Gaby and Kuryakin will be meeting with the Cuban emissary around that time for dinner as well. We’ll be close by to keep an eye on them just in case.” 

Cuban music played ambiently in the lobby, drowning out the sound of rapid chatter coming from the hotel guests. Natalia followed Solo to the concierge desk and waited patiently for them to get checked in. 

“What are the odds we find my father this evening and get the hell out of here?” she whispered in his ear. 

Solo took her hand in his and brought it to the lips. All part of the show. “We’re good. But not that good. In the meantime, Peril and Gaby will work their magic and hopefully we won’t have to be here any longer than necessary.” 

++++

“Well, how do I look?” Gaby asked emerging from the bedroom they shared. 

Illya looked up from his magazine and placed it aside. It was written in Spanish anyway. He eyed Gaby with subtle appreciation. The dress was bright and colorful, matching the atmosphere and complimenting her olive skin tone. This was Illya’s first time in the Caribbean. He was used to bitterly cold winters and cool summers. Looking at Gaby made him appreciate the warm island weather. 

“Like a diplomat’s wife,” he said with a hint of a smile. 

A grin tugged at Gaby’s lips. “Are you sure I don’t look like an architect’s fiancé? Or maybe a rich business man’s secret lover?” she teased. 

Illya smiled back at her. Ever since Austria, things were different between them. The tension was still there, but it was laced with something else. Illya enjoyed the change. He liked working with Gaby. There was something there between them, although he suspected they both worked hard to ignore it. This time he was glad they both pushed for their arrangement as husband and wife. He liked having her by his side as his woman. 

“Here let me…” Gaby said, closing the distance between them so she could help him with his bowtie. 

Illya stood over her as she reached for the tie that hung loosely around his collar. He planned on tying it before they left for dinner that evening. As Gaby worked her delicate hands over the fabric, he focused his attention on the painting hanging on the wall behind her. The scent of her perfume filled his senses. She smelled like spring. Illya closed his eyes when her fingers accidentally brushed the exposed skin above his collar and sucked in a breath.  
“Who taught you how to tie tie?” 

Gaby looped one piece of black fabric over the other. “I have many talents,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Illya grunted with approval, pleased with the growing intimacy between them. 

“There.” Gaby leaned back and admired her handy work. She placed a small hand on his chest and smiled. “Don’t you look handsome.” She tilted her chin up to look at him. 

They were close. The air around them grew warmer. All he had to do was lean a little closer and their lips would touch. Illya swallowed hard and placed his hands at her slender waist. His nose brushed against hers as he dipped his head for a kiss. Closer, closer--

Someone tapped loudly at the door before yelling, “Housekeeping!” from the other side. 

Illya and Gaby sprang apart like two guilty teenagers. The door to their hotel swung open and a woman wearing a maid’s uniform stepped inside. 

“Sorry, Señor, Señora,” she apologized. “You need more towels?” 

Gaby sighed and threw back her head in frustration. Illya’s eyes formed into thin slits as he shook his head. _Always_ , he thought to himself. Whenever he and Gaby got even a little bit closer to getting intimate, someone managed to interrupt them. It took every ounce of his willpower not shove the maid out the door. The housekeeper hurriedly swept through the suite, apologizing profusely as she restocked the towels. Illya stood impatiently as she scurried around the room before making her final exit. 

Gaby rolled her eyes. “We should go,” she said with chagrin. 

Disappointment crashed into him as he watched Gaby grab the small clutch he picked out for her and head toward the door. _Perhaps it is best, my little chop shop,_ he thought to himself. Illya let out a heavy sigh and followed Gaby out of the suite. 

++++

The emissary’s name was Raul Alvarez. Illya disliked him immediately. The man’s ego was worse than an American’s and he had plenty of experience dealing with an inflated ego. Illya chewed his food deliberately and listened to the man brag about everything from his swollen faced wife to his fancy, embargoed car. The Cuban chose one of the most expensive restaurants the island had to offer. Everything about it brimmed with exclusivity. It was a perfect venue to host a foreign diplomat. Illya kept a shrewd eye out for anything suspicious. Although he was in the country as a Russian diplomat, relations between Cuba and the Soviet Union were still tenuous. 

“Don’t muck this up,” Waverly warned before the trip. 

Illya was aware that Solo and Natalia were lurking about somewhere in the restaurant. They would remain undercover as backup unless something happened that would require their assistance. It was Illya’s job to make sure that didn’t happen. 

“Tell Me, Mr. Lukin, what do you and your lovely wife think about my country? I understand this is your first time, no?” 

“We like it,” Illya said while laying his fork down carefully on his plate. 

“Ah, come on! I’ve had the misfortune of visiting Russia. Cuba is a great improvement.” 

Illya clenched his fists under the table. His shoulders tensed as the man’s insult to his country. Russia was no misfortune. Men like Alvarez would be lucky to have Russian blood coursing through their veins. Illya started to respond when Gaby placed a hand on his thigh and gave it a light squeeze. 

“What my husband is trying to say, Mr. Alvarez, is that we are enjoying ourselves. The accommodations are lovely, and your country is very beautiful. Thank you for welcoming us to your home.” 

Alvarez's lips spread into a wide, toothy smile. “You are too generous, Mrs. Lukin.” Alvarez clapped his hands together happily. “We should toast.” He waved over one of the wait staff and ordered a bottle of wine for the table. “To our lovely countries and even lovelier wives,” Alvarez toasted. 

Illya lifted his glass between stiff fingers and took a small sip of the bitter liquid. He didn’t like to drink. Alcohol clouded judgment and made men weak. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to find the ladies room,” Gaby said, standing to her feet. Illya stood up with her before sitting down again. 

“Maria, why don’t you show Mrs. Lukin the way. That’ll give us men time to talk.” The Cuban’s wife nodded before excusing herself from the table to escort Gaby to the ladies room. 

Once the women were gone the table grew silent. Illya sat with his back straight against his chair and studied the man. He wasn’t the same one who attacked him and Solo back in Austria. That man had dark, curly hair and a mustache. Alvarez was tall and swarthy with dark hair slicked back by oils. His teeth were huge and a long straight nose was attached to his very punchable face. 

“Your wife is very beautiful, Mr. Lukin,” Alvarez began. “But not Russian.” 

“No.” 

Alvarez grinned and took another drink of his wine. “I forget how chatty you Russians are,” he joked. Alvarez eyed Illya over the rim of his glass and shook his head. “Tomorrow we will give you the grand tour of the island. Then we will discuss some business. But in the meantime, you look like a man who could loosen up. This is paradise.” 

Illya grunted his response. He had no interest in loosening anything. His mission was to retrieve the nuclear codes, Kirkoff, and Natalia’s father. In that order. “Business is more important,” he said. 

Alvarez chuckled and wagged a finger at Illya. “Yes, but even diplomats should have their fun. Our country has more than just magnificent beaches. The women are very nice, too,” he said with a wink. 

Illya barely choked back his disgust. The man’s wife was only a few feet away and he was soliciting him for—Illya clenched his fists again. His heart began to thump loudly in his ears, drowning out the restaurant. He could see Alvarez's lips moving, but he couldn’t hear him above the rush of blood. If Gaby was his wife, he would never dishonor her. Illya sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly through his nostrils. Waverly recommended he try the breathing technique when his temper began to flare. Most of the time it didn’t work. 

“So, what do you say, Lukin? We can drop the women off and—” 

“No,” Illya interrupted curtly. He took another fortifying breath. “It is first night. We will spend it together,” he amended. 

Alvarez nodded his head in understanding. “You’re right. There’ll be plenty of time for fun. Alverez looked up just as his wife and Gaby returned to the table. And speaking of fun,” Alvarez said, standing to pull back his wife’s chair. “I was telling your husband about the grand tour of the island.” 

“Oh?” Gaby smiled as she took her seat. “I’m looking forward to it.” 

“Yes. Then after the tour, you’ll have your audience with the president.” 

“Will we see your prison?” Illya asked, prompting Gaby to dig her elbow into his ribs. 

Alvarez paused. A confused frown creased his brow before he spoke again. “If you wish.”  
Illya nodded his head satisfied with the emissary’s answer. The foursome finished their meal before parting ways for the evening. As he and Gaby exited the restaurant, Illya caught a glimpse of Solo and Natalia. He gave them a barely perceptible nod before exiting the building. The air was heavy with moisture as he and Gaby strolled down the streets of Old Havana together. He thought about their near kiss from earlier and wished for another moment like it. Illya looked up. Stars dotted the inky blue sky heightening the romantic atmosphere. It reminded him of their first stroll together in Rome. 

“Stay close,” he mumbled out the side of his mouth. “We’re being followed.”

“Solo and Natalia?” 

Illya shook his head. He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close. Illya helped Gaby cross the cobbled road to the opposite side of the street. The crowd was dense and festive. He hoped the crowd would put distance between them and whoever was following them. 

“Let’s stop here,” Gaby said. “There are a lot of people.” 

Good idea, he thought. They sat in front of a coffee house together. Illya flagged down a waitress and ordered them each a cup. The streets were live with natives and tourists enjoying the warm night. Music wafted across the square prompting some brave souls to dance. Illya snuck a glance at Gaby. Her legs were crossed at the knee and her foot bobbed to the music. She liked to dance. Illya recalled the night she tackled him fondly. He looked around the square again. Whoever had been following them was gone. Illya was not a dancer, but they were in Cuba. He stood up before he could talk himself out it and extended his hand out to Gaby. He cleared his throat and waited for her to notice him. Gaby looked at him with surprise behind her dark eyes. 

“What are you doing?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Waiting for you to stand up so we can dance.” 

Gaby shook her head and laughed softly under her breath. “We’re being followed.” 

“Not anymore. But this is good. We dance. We look like them,” he said nodding his head toward the crowd. 

Gaby looked around before slowly standing to her feet. “But you never dance.” 

“Russian architect never dance. Russian diplomat dance occasionally.” 

Gaby shook her head and laughed. “Well, when you put it that way.” Gaby placed her hand in his just as Otis Redding’s “These Arms of Mine” began to play from somewhere in the plaza. Illya wrapped his arms around Gaby, pulling her close. She rested her cheek against his chest as they swayed to the American, soul ballad. Holding her did something to him. She made him want things that a Soviet spy shouldn’t want. It made him think about the impossible. Illya closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of her lithe body against his. Tomorrow they would begin their search for Kirkoff and Natalia’s father. Tonight, they danced. 

++++

Solo tracked Illya’s and Gaby’s movements. They were being trailed for a while, but the two men soon abandoned their target and slipped back into the shadows. Solo watched the couple from across the street. “I believe the coast is clear,” he said to Natalia. 

“Shouldn’t we stay close just in case?” 

Solo shook his head. “They’ll be alright. If anything happens, Peril can take care of himself. Trust me. The man once tore the back of my car off with his bare hands.” 

“You’re kidding!” Natalia exclaimed in disbelief. 

“Afraid not.” He watched them for a few more minutes before guiding Natalia back to their hotel. “They have the trackers. If anything happens, we’re still close. I’d like to get back to the room and study the plans for the prison and casa el presidente.” 

They still didn’t know exactly where the Cubans were keeping Kirkoff or Natalia’s father,but they had narrowed it down to the president’s personal estate or the prison. The most likely place was the president’s home. Solo had a feeling that Castro would want them close. 

“Good idea,” Natalia agreed, trailing behind him before matching his stride. 

They walked back to the hotel, bypassing vendors and late-night tourist. Solo checked for messages at the front desk before they returned to their suite. He cautioned Natalia to wait by the door while he checked the room for any intruders or bugs. 

“All’s clear,” he said, motioning her inside the suite. 

Natalia dropped her clutch on the table and slid out of her shoes as soon as she walked inside. Solo pulled at his tie as he spread the plans to the President’s estate across the eat-in table. Over the next few hours, he and Natalia poured over the plans. He occasionally monitored Illya and Gaby until they were safely back in their room. Hours later, the map was littered with notes and possible areas they were keeping Kirkoff and her father. Tomorrow, while they were on tour, Gaby and Illya would try to confirm their location. That evening they would go and extract their target. 

Solo looked up from the city plans and studied Natalia from inside the suite. She was standing out on the balcony overlooking the city. Silver moonlight cast a soft glow around her. Solo pushed the plans aside and stood to his feet. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, standing behind her. 

Natalia used the butt of her hand to quickly wipe her tears away. “I’m fine. You should get some rest. Long day tomorrow.” She spoke with her back toward him.

Solo felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest. He knew she was embarrassed. Vulnerability wasn’t something either of them was comfortable with. He didn’t know how to handle emotional women. Without saying a word, Solo turned her around to face him. Natalia hesitated for a moment before resting her cheek on his shoulder. They didn’t say a word as he held her. Napoleon tried to make sense of what he was feeling. Women had always been an easy commodity for him. Ever since he was a young man, there was never a shortage of women who were willing to warm his bed. But intimacy was something new to him. Solo struggled with his conflicting emotions as they stood together on the balcony. He hated that Natalia was going through this. He wanted to comfort her and assure her that everything was going to work out. They were partners. But above all, he did care for her. The realization struck him like a fist to the gut. 

“Why don’t you head inside and get some rest,” he suggested. I’ll tidy up out here.

Natalia nodded her head as she pulled away from him. “Solo…” she hesitated at the door. 

“Mmm…?” 

Natalia’s lips parted before she shook her head. “Goodnight.” 

She was asleep by the time he made it back to their room. Solo undressed in the dark and slid under the covers in his queen-sized bed. He started to drift off when the weight shifted in his bed. Natalia’s arms snaked around his waist as she slid into the bed beside him. 

“Natalia, what…?”

She placed her fingertips on his lips. “Don’t speak,” she said. 

Solo gazed into her face in the darkness. There was desperation and hunger reflected in her dark eyes. He sifted his hand through her thick dark hair and pulled her close for a fiery kiss.


	13. Spy Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Illya shook his head. “Your plan better work, cowboy,” Illya said looking over Napoleon’s shoulder.
> 
> “Have some faith, Peril. The plan will work,” Solo replied. Maybe if he said it enough, he’d start to believe it, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again to my wonderful Beta. If there are any mistakes, they belong to me.

Sunlight filtered into Gaby’s and Illya’s hotel room from the large ceiling length windows. Gaby blinked against the bright light and forced her eyes opened. Illya’s heart beat steadily against her cheek. She tilted her head to look up at her partner. They had fallen asleep together on one of the sofas in the common area of their suite. She smiled at the memory of their dance together out in the square. She couldn’t recall a time when he seemed more at ease. Even though they were on another dangerous mission, last night felt like a sweet interlude. After the dance, they came back to the room and slipped quietly to sleep beside each other. Gaby touched his chin delicately with the tips of her fingers. Even with the prosthetic nose, he was still her Illya. As if on cue, Illya stirred in his sleep. His right eye opened first and locked on Gaby. The two spies stared at each other in silence. The corner of Illya’s lips curved into a subtle smile. He caught her hand in his and brought the tips of her fingers to his lips. Gaby closed her eyes as her fingers traced the curve of his smile. 

“Morning, little chop shop,” he said affectionately. 

Gaby smiled at the nickname he’d given her. She nuzzled her face against his chest and murmured, “Morning.” 

“Last night was good,” Illya added. “Very believable.” 

Gaby paused and looked up at him shocked confusion. Was last night only part of the mission for him? For a moment she thought there had been something more between them. She stood up suddenly in a huff, confusing Illya. “Yes, all part of the job, right?” She gathered her shoes as she spoke. 

Illya stood close by and watched her choppy movements around the room. “Yes. Our cover as man and wife—”

Gaby jerked around to face him. “Go fix your nose, Illya,” she said and stepped into the adjoining room. Illya lifted his hand to his prosthetic nose and patted it gently. Gaby brushed her teeth with frustrated hands. The man was all business. It was as if he was purposely trying to ignore whatever it was that was happening between them. She knew they were on a mission. She knew the gravity of their job. But she thought last night had been… something. Gaby wiped her mouth and stared at her reflection. After they were done in Cuba, she was going to ask Waverly for some time off. She needed a break. 

“I ordered your breakfast.” Illya gestured toward the breakfast spread out on the table when she returned to the room. 

Gaby’s stomach rumbled loudly reminding her that she had barely eaten at dinner the other night. “Thanks,” she muttered and took a seat across from her partner.  
“We will meet the emissary today for a tour of the island,” Illya began. 

Gaby stuffed a fork full of eggs in her mouth and nodded. “I know.” 

“While we are on tour, Cowboy and Natalia will try to locate Kirkoff and Povlovsky. When we are finished with tour, we will come back here. You will wait---” 

“Woah, Woah, woah, what do you mean I will wait?” 

Illya sighed as if he was anticipating her reaction. “It is too dangerous for all four of us to go.”

“So, I’m supposed to sit around twiddling my thumbs while the three of you play spy?” 

Illya paused. “Yes. No.” 

“Then why do I have to wait around?” Gabby eyes flickered angrily while she spoke. “I’m not some weak little girl you know.” 

They stared at each other for a long time. Illya was the first to break and stood to his feet. “I know.” His eyes were tender for a moment. “I—” he began and stopped short. Illya held her gaze again. Gaby waited for him to finish, but he walked out of the room instead. 

++++

Gaby held his hand as they rode in the secure transport car around Havana with Alverez sitting across from them. Illya enjoyed the feel of her small hands tucked in his. They seemed to be over the small hump from earlier, but Illya knew better. Gaby was laying it on thick which meant she was still upset with him for benching her. Why couldn’t she understand it was for her own good? He wanted to explain that to her earlier, but then he would have to tell her how he really felt. He didn’t want to risk her safety. He didn’t want to see her get hurt. He didn’t want to take any chances with her life. Illya wanted to explain all of that to her but now was not the time. He vowed that as soon as they were off the island, he would make his intentions toward Gaby known. They had danced around it long enough. Last night, as she slept cuddled in his arms, he realized that it was their closeness that made them a good team. When he first realized his attraction for her, he feared that it would cloud his judgment and make him soft like Solo. No, his feelings for Gaby had the opposite effect. 

“This is the prison,” Alverez said, interrupting Illya’s thoughts as they rode past the prison facility. 

Illya stared out the window at the domed building. It was heavily guarded with military issued vehicles standing guard. If Kirkoff or Povlovsky was being held inside those walls, it would take a cavalry to break them out. Illy glanced over at Gaby. Her sunglasses were dark, but he recognized the look of disgust on her face.  
“How many prisoners would you say are being held here?” Illya asked with feigned, casual interest. 

“About four thousand give or take.” 

“Four thousand?” Gaby asked. “In that?” 

Alverez smirked and leaned against his seat. “No worse than your German concentration camps, Mrs. Lukin. But we have no Nazi’s in Cuba.” 

Illya squeezed Gaby’s hand to calm her. No, Cuba had no Nazi’s, but the prison looked no better than a Soviet Gulag. He scanned the exterior of the building. The odds of finding either one of their targets within those walls would be a miracle, if they could even get inside. After seeing the prison, Illya doubted that either one of the men were being held there. He glanced over at Gaby again. The team had their work cut out for them. 

Alverez looked down at his watch and grinned. “Ah. It is nearly lunch. Have you tried Cuban _tostones_? You must try it at least once before you leave the island,” he said before instructing the driver to take them to their next location for lunch. 

++++

“This will not work,” Illya said, looking over the plan Solo had carefully put together. 

The sun was just beginning to set as the team gathered in Natalia’s and Solo’s hotel suite. After their outing with Alverez, Illya and Gaby managed to give their detail the slip long enough to meet the others and go over their plan. Once they realized the prison was not an option, they had to switch gears. Unlike their other recent missions, the stakes seemed higher than ever before. The hotel room was thick with nervous tension as each member mulled over the details. Solo stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked against his heels. He’d been over the plan with Natalia several times. Unless they were able to waltz into the president’s home and kindly  
ask for Kirkoff and Povlovsky, there was no other way. 

“It will work, Peril,” Napoleon said in a deliberate manner. 

“For all our sakes it has to,” Natalia agreed. She poured herself a small drink and sat down on one of the sofas. 

“You and Gaby will be in the house already and—” 

“Gaby stays out of this,” Illya said darkly. 

Napoleon looked between the two and rolled his eyes. _Cute_ , he thought to himself. _Now he realizes what everyone’s known all along_. “That won’t work, Peril. She’s your wife. How would it look if your wife doesn’t accompany you to meet the president of the country she’s visiting with you?” 

“She will have a headache.” 

Gaby stood to her feet. “She is standing right here, and she can speak for herself,” Gaby interjected. “Solo is right. This plan won’t work unless we all do it together.” Illya’s jaw flexed in anger as he stared at Solo in silence. 

“Good. Now that we have that settled, there will be plenty of guests around. That will serve as a distraction for us. I’ll pose as a guardsman while Natalia slips in as part of the kitchen staff.” Solo walked over to the table. “I happened to call in a favor of mine who will take care of the distraction outside of the compound.” 

Illya shook his head. “Your plan better work, cowboy,” Illya said looking over Napoleon’s shoulder. 

“Have some faith, Peril. The plan will work,” Solo replied. Maybe if he said it enough, he’d start to believe it, too. 

++++

Everyone was in their places. While Illya and Gaby mingled with the rest of the guests, Natalia worked the kitchen. Solo used his position as a guardsman to move around the house undetected. Napoleon glanced at the ornate clock against the wall near his post. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he waited for the signal from outside the compound. Solo believed luck was on their side. It just so happened that the CIA was stationed covertly around the island keeping tabs on the Cuban government as an extra precaution. After the Cuban missile crisis of ’62, the U.S. doubled down on its surveillance, deploying undercover agents on the island until further notice. Solo called in an old favor from one of those agents, who was currently still on the island posing as an American businessman. It was a point in their favor that was desperately needed. 

Solo caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he padded quietly down one of the hallways. The uniform he wore was Cuban issued and completely authentic. It allowed him to move past guests and other military guards without a second glance. Napoleon turned another corner and let out the breath he’d been holding. The image of the plans to the mansion flashed in his mind as he moved down one corridor into another. If those plans were accurate there was a door at the end of the hall that led to an underground area where Kirkoff and Povlovsky were most likely located. After Illya reported what he saw at the prison during his tour, Solo was more than convinced that the two men were not being held in genpop. They were much too valuable to be thrown in a prison where riots were a common occurrence. 

“If I were a Cuban dictator where would I keep my prisoners?” Solo muttered to himself. 

“ _Teniente_?” A voice called from behind him. 

Solo closed his eyes in frustration before turning around slowly. The officer whose uniform he was wearing was a lieutenant. Solo had hoped to avoid being recognized by lower-ranking officers, but he had to go for style rather than practicality. “Soldado,” he greeted the private. 

“Sir,” the man spoke to him in Spanish. “The party is back that way.” 

“I’m aware, private. So why aren’t you at your post?” Napoleon responded in the man’s native tongue. 

The young officer tilted his head in confusion as he eyed Napoleon with trepidation. “This is my post, sir.” 

Damn. Solo eyed the young man cautiously. “Well, good. Good job. Tell me, private, where are the prisoners being held?” There was a chance that he was too low level to know about Kirkoff and Povlovsky. Solo waited with bated breath. This was either going to go really well or horribly wrong. 

“That’s classified, sir.” 

Solo stood taller and puffed out his chest. “I’m your ranking officer, private. Who’s your commanding officer?” 

The young man’s cheek flushed with embarrassment. “My apologies, sir. I can show you. Follow me.” 

Solo gave him a firm head nod and followed him down the long corridor into another hallway. They paused outside of a large wooden door. Solo glanced to his left and right as the man opened the door and led them down a dimly lit stairwell. The lower level of the house smelled of mildew and decay. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear the steady drip of a leaking pipe. The officer stopped short in front of a heavy steel door and gestured with his head that one of the prisoners were being held inside. 

“Good work, private. And the other?” 

“He’s being held further down that way, sir. I—”

“Good. Head on back up the stairs and I’ll meet you in a few minutes.” 

The young man hesitated for a moment before following Solo’s command. The spy waited until the young man was out of earshot before he pulled open the slit in the door and peered inside. Natalia’s father was huddled in the furthest corner beneath a thin blanket. 

“Sergei,” Solo whispered, calling him by his first name. He waited for the older gentleman to lift his head. “Don’t speak. Just listen. I’m a friend of your daughter, Natalia. We’re going to get you out of here soon. I’m coming back for you,” he said before closing the barrier between them. 

Solo looked down the hall. The officer on duty was still waiting for him upstairs. He didn’t want to push his luck any further and headed back upstairs where the young man was waiting for him. The boy saluted him once he emerged from the doorway. The key the boy used to unlock the door dangled from his pants. Solo reached for it with stealthy hands and pocketed them moments later. His lips pressed into a grim smile as the young soldier saluted him and Solo headed back toward his post. He needed to get to others and let them know he had found their targets. The closer he got toward the main part of the mansion the sound of music grew louder. He nodded toward another officer and made his way towards his post. They all needed to be in position when his favor came through so they could extract Kirkoff and Povlovsky as quickly as possible. If all went well, they could possibly get both men out of the house undetected. The guests were still in the grand room dancing by the time he made it back to position. Solo caught a glimpse of Gaby and Illya as they spoke with another couple. Napoleon made a small gesture with his hand, catching Illya’s attention. Solo gave him a slight nod indicating his success. 

Solo turned away quickly and kept his eyes peeled for anything that might get in the way of their plans. He knew where Natalia’s father was, and they were close to getting the code and Kirkoff. Now, all he needed was his favor to come through and in a big way. 

++++

Natalia lifted a heavy pot into the sink and began to scrub away the thick grime. She ignored the gossiping from the kitchen staff kept herself ready for the signal. Solo said she would know it when she heard it. Natalia used the back of her hand to wipe away the small beads of sweat from her forehead. She was nervous and energized at the same time. She knew the plan was to retrieve both her father and Kirkoff, but her priority was her father. She hoped she wouldn’t have to do anything that would betray the integrity of the team, but if she had a choice between her father’s life and Kirkoff’s she would choose her father. She didn’t care about the consequences. They had already taken her freedom away from her anyway. 

At half past the hour the sound of a loud explosion rocked the streets of Havana. A few miles away from the president’s compound another smaller explosion hit sending the people in the mansion into a panic. Someone let out a piercing scream as guests scrambled for cover. Natalia stopped what she was doing immediately and began to follow one the of the servants out the kitchen. Members of the military crowded the hallways as they tried to figure out what was happening. Natalia heard someone say “revolution” sending the crowd into further panic and chaos. She discarded the net from her hair and dropped it to the floor. The person next to her was shoved aside as people tried desperately to exit the house. Natalia squinted through the crowd until she spotted Solo in the thick of it. 

“Did you find my father?” she asked once she was in earshot. 

Solo gave her a curt nod. “Down that hall. Once Gaby and Illya make it out of there safely,” he said nodding toward the grand room. “We’ll use this to get them out of here.” 

“Well, here they come now,” Natalia said just as Illya and Gaby emerged from the crowd.


	14. All Down Hill from Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The air was thick with tension as they made their way to the other side of the hall. Solo could hear his heart beating in his ears as Natalia and Gaby stepped out of the shadows and crossed the hall. He held his breath until they were safely on the other side beckoning Illya to follow with Kirkoff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta for all her help! You are awesome.
> 
> Any mistakes are mine.

The noise in the hall grew louder as people scrambled around desperate to escape the chaos. Solo swung around just in time to see the rest of his team head toward them. Time was of the essence. If they had any chance of getting out of that mansion alive, they had to move quickly. 

“Did you find the others?” Gaby whispered loud enough for only Napoleon to hear. 

“Yes, just down that hall. We’ll have to move fast,” he replied in a rush. “I’ll go first and the rest of you follow me. Don’t make it obvious,” he said before shouting a command in Spanish to the panicked guests. 

Solo gripped his gun and pushed his way from the center of the crowd toward the side hallway. He hoped the young guard from earlier had abandoned his post to deal with the chaos. Solo wasn’t opposed to using his gun, but the boy was young. He wanted to avoid having to use his gun on the kid. The boy was just a soldier. They were built to follow orders. He had no personal stake in this fight. As Solo made his way down the hall, he heard the rapid fire of guns and clinched his rifle tighter. 

“I’m really sticking my neck out for you this time, Solo.” 

The words of Carl Davenport, his CIA contact echoed in his ears. Napoleon was sure that firing guns at the home of a foreign president by the CIA constituted as some kind of war crime. Stack that on top of the controlled explosion in the middle of town… Solo was not looking forward to his meeting with Waverly at all. Napoleon quickened his steps to a brisk stride. The rest of his team followed at a safe distance as to not draw too much attention to themselves. No one noticed or seemed to care that the foursome was heading in the wrong direction. They were preoccupied with the possible attack on the president. Was it another government coop? Had the United States turned their missiles back on their country? Did the prisoners escape from the prison and finally overrun the island? No one knew what was going on. Solo assumed that someone was securing the president while they figured it out. He turned the last corner and was relieved to see the young military man was gone. Solo sighed gratefully for the bit of fortune when he spotted the empty post. He furtively tried the door handle and found it locked. 

“I can open it,” Natalia volunteered. 

“No need,” he said producing the keys he had stolen from the soldier earlier that evening.   
Natalia smiled in relief and watched closely as he sifted through the them until he found the right one. The door unlocked with a soft click. “Watch out for the stairs,” he said in a hushed tone as the group followed him down to the lowest level of the house. Illya held the back of the line and watched for any unwanted company. Solo followed the same pathway as before and led the rest of the team to the locked prison doors where Natalia’s father was being held. 

“Natalia, your father’s in here,” Solo said stopping in front of the door. “Kirkoff should be about a few feet away. Illya and Gaby,” he instructed. The two spies gave him a brisk nod before moving further down the dank hallway. Solo turned back to Natalia. “What you're about to see…” he said thinking of the gaunt man behind the door. “We’ll need to move quickly, you understand?”   
Natalia bobbed her head in response and Solo shifted his attention back to the keys in his hands. None of them worked. He examined the lock. It was easy enough to pick, but they had to move. 

“Step back,” he said to his partner and pulled out his gun. Solo banged on the steel door, alerting Povlovsky. “Sergei, it’s me again,” he said through the door. “I’ll need you to take cover.” 

Solo looked down the hall toward Illya and Gaby. Both men cocked their guns at the same time. Solo held up three fingers before turning back toward the door. One…he counted in silence. Two… three. On the third count, Solo and Illya let off a round at the same time. The sound of the gunshot echoed underground. Solo winced and hoped that no one on the floor above heard them. He ignored the slight ringing in his ear and stepped into the cell. This time Sergei was huddled in the corner opposite of the door away from the shower of bullets. As soon as Natalia saw her father, she ran into the older man’s arms. 

“Papa!” she cried out. 

Solo watched the reunion in grim silence. Natalia gently touched her father’s face, running her fingertips over the deep lines and creases. He aged considerably since the last time she saw him. His face was thin, and his cheeks were nearly sunken in. 

“What did they do to you?” she said, outraged. Tears pooled in her round eyes. 

Sergei cupped his daughter’s cheeks in his hands. “It doesn’t matter,” he spoke in Russian. “You are here now. You came for me.” 

“Yes. And I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.” 

“No need to be sorry, little heart,” Sergei said resting his forehead against hers. “I am better now.”

“As much as I hate to break up this touching moment, we’ve got to go,” Solo said reminding Natalia of the time. 

Sergei hesitated for a moment, looking over Solo’s Cuban military regalia. “He’s not Cuban, papa,” Natalia assured him. “He’s here to help us escape. You must trust us.” 

Sergei nodded his head and followed his daughter and Solo out the small cell. 

++++  
Down the hall, Illya and Gaby burst into the second cell to find Kirkoff bruised and badly beaten. The German scientist looked up and grimaced at his intruders. “You again,” he spat recognizing Gaby. 

“Shut up,” Illya commanded tightly. 

“We’re going to get you out of here,” Gaby said, stepping forward. “Illya.” 

The spy moved to the other side of Kirkoff. Instead of helping Gaby hoist him to his feet, he trained his gun at the other man’s head and pulled back the safety. “Give me the code,” he commanded in his steely Russian accent. 

Kirkoff lifted his head and grinned through bloodstained teeth. “Not on your life. You get me out of here and then I’ll give you the code.” 

“Have you given it to the Cubans?” Illya prodded. 

“If I did, do you think I’d still be alive?” 

“Come on, we don’t have time for this,” Gaby said helping Kirkoff to his feet. 

Illya flexed his jaw, suppressing his agitation. Gaby was right, they had to move. As much as he would have enjoyed getting the code from him, they only had a limited amount of time to get out of that house. Illya gave Kirkoff a light shove out the door and followed him into the hallway.   
“Good. Everyone is accounted for,” Solo said once everyone was within sight. “This way.” He led them back through the dank hall and up the stairs again. Solo lifted a finger to his lips and stuck his head outside of the door. The hallway was empty, giving it an eerie feeling. “All clear. Let’s go,” he said briskly. 

The group moved down the hall in tandem. Solo led the way with his gun handy. Natalia reached beneath her skirt and pulled out the Smith and Wesson she carried with her back when they were in Rome. Solo hoped they wouldn’t have to use their guns at all. The mansion was crawling with military. They were outmanned and outgunned. The closer they got to the end of the hall he could hear the sound of confusion. 

“There’s got to be another way out of here,” Gaby said, peaking around the corner. “We’re not getting through that,” she said eying one of the military guards. 

Solo tried to picture the plans to the mansion in his head. “Natalia,” he said turning toward her. “In the plans, I remember a side door that goes in and out of the kitchen. Do you recall seeing it at all? 

Natalia paused a moment to think. “Yes. That’s where the deliveries are made. I can take you to the kitchen. But we’ll have to figure out a way to get past that,” she said nodding her head. 

Solo peered down the hall. They had to get by a crowd of people undetected with two half-starved prisoners and a pretend Russian diplomat. He could do it. Solo had faced bigger challenges in the past. “The women will go first. Then you and Kirkoff, Peril. Try to keep him on the inside and move fast. Then I’ll follow with Povlovsky.” 

“I’ll take my father,” Natalia protested. 

“No. Too dangerous. I need you and Gaby to go first. This is not up for debate, Natalia.” 

Natalia conceded with an eye roll. “Fine.” 

The air was thick with tension as they made their way to the other side of the hall. Solo could hear his heart beating in his ears as Natalia and Gaby stepped out of the shadows and crossed the hall. He held his breath until they were safely on the other side beckoning Illya to follow with Kirkoff. Beside him, Sergei muttered a few prayers in Russian and watched the two men crossover. When it was their turn, Solo gave Sergei a slight nod of his head and moved forward. The crowd was so wound up that none of the guards noticed them when they walked by. Once they were across the hall, Solo jogged ahead of the group with Natalia beside him. They followed the path to the kitchen together. Illya shoved Kirkoff forward again when the man began to slow down. 

“Through there,” Natalia instructed, pointing toward a door. 

They were almost there. Solo could taste freedom. Illya moved ahead of him, volunteering to check if everything was clear. He peered out the door and gave a slight nod. The back of the mansion was surprisingly quiet as they filed outside together. “They must have moved them to the other side of the house,” Solo whispered. “Let’s go.” 

They moved briskly over the manicured lawn and ran toward the gate in the back. Solo’s stride slowed when he noticed the guards lining their exit as if they were waiting for them. He gripped the gun in his hand. 

“Dammit,” Gaby muttered. 

Solo’s jaw tightened as he tried to think of a plan. He counted three guards and a truck. Off to the left was a small building made of brick. “Hide behind that,” he instructed. “I’ll give you a signal and then you run.” 

“Solo, wait,” Natalia said, grabbing his upper arm. “You don’t have to do this.” 

Solo looked down at the hand wrapped around his jacket. “Yes, I do,” he said before taking off.   
Napoleon straightened the green military jacket he wore and stepped out of the shadows. As soon as he was visible the men all saluted him. Luck was on their side again. He outranked all of them. Solo eyed one of the nearby trucks. “I need a transport,” he spoke confidently in Spanish. 

“No one leaves the house, sir,” one of the officers spoke up. “I’m sorry. Orders.” 

“I have a dignitary here from Russia. Our priority is to get him to safety. If your commanding officer hears about this…” 

The men gripped their guns tighter. The officer who spoke earlier eyed Solo skeptically. He read the name on his uniform and looked at Napoleon’s face again before whispering something to the other two men. While he spoke, he kept his eyes trained on Solo. 

“Sir, there was an explosion outside of the building and in the center of town. We cannot let anyone leave this place.” 

“Well, you’re going to let me leave or I’ll make sure you’re all court-martialed for disobeying a direct order from your superior.” The men went silent as they debated what to do next. The leader of the group nodded his head reluctantly and stepped aside. 

“Good. I’m glad you came to your senses. But I’m still going to have to report your insubordination,” Solo continued in Spanish. “Now, I want you all to stand over there. Turn around and keep your back turned to me. Do not turn around no matter what.” 

“Yes, sir!” they shouted and took their positions. 

Solo lifted his arm and beckoned the others to join him. He kept his eyes on the soldiers to make sure they didn’t turn around as his team moved toward the truck. Natalia helped her father in the jeep beside her, followed by Gaby, Kirkoff, and Illya. Solo waited until they were all secured in the vehicle before climbing into the driver’s side. He felt around for the key and realized it wasn’t there. 

“Private Diaz,” he said calling over one of the soldiers. “Where are the keys to this vehicle?”   
“I have them, sir,” the officer said, walking over to the truck. Diaz patted himself down for the key. 

Solo watched him carefully and kept his hand wrapped around his gun. He placed his finger on the trigger and held his breath. A few seconds later, the soldier handed Solo the key. He could feel the tension in the car ebb the moment it fell into his palm. “Soldier,” he said and turned the key in the ignition. Solo started the truck and gently lifted his foot off the break. The jeep rolled forward slowly. As they drove by, the soldier peered inside spotting Povlovsky and Kirkoff. 

“Wait! Stop!” he yelled out. 

Solo slammed his foot down on the gas and took off. The jeep skidded across the gravel as he drove frantically down the road, trying to avoid the rough terrain. Behind them, the soldiers piled into another car and took chase. Illya pulled himself up and shot at the soldiers from the backseat of the jeep. Bullets sparked against metal, lighting up the night sky. Solo kept his head low as enemy fire whizzed past him. 

“Everyone stay down!” he shouted. 

Natalia held her father close to her and tried to shield his body against any stray bullets.   
“Give me your gun!” Gaby yelled at Natalia. Over the last few months, Gaby had become quite skilled with them. The Russian handed her pistol over to Gaby and the younger spy began firing off shots along with Illya. Solo took a shoulder sharply as they sped down the side of the cliff. Illya tilted to the side nearly losing his balance but continued to shoot at the car behind them. The soldiers were moving in closer. Solo floored the jeep but couldn’t make it go any faster. A cloud of dust puffed up behind them obscuring Illya and Gaby’s view. A bullet grazed Gaby’s arm causing her to cry out in shock. Illya lowered himself down beside her. 

“Keep shooting!” she said to Illya. “It’s nothing. I’ll be alright.” She turned her body so she could see Solo. “Go left!” Gaby yelled from the back seat as bullets continued to whiz over their heads. 

“We’ll go flying off the side of this road!” Solo called back. 

“Trust me!” 

Solo looked at her through the rearview mirror. She stared back at him with determination in her eyes. Solo gave her a slight nod of his head. She was the driver. He knew he could trust her. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and pulled the car sharply to the left. The vehicle fishtailed wildly for a few moments before he was able to regain control of it. Behind them, the soldiers tried to do the same. Their truck fished tailed hard to the right sending them over the cliff and down into the jagged ocean rocks below. Solo looked through the rearview mirror and gave Gaby a slight smile. She did well, but they weren’t out of the woods yet. They needed to find a way to get off the island. Solo trained his eyes back on the road while Illya carefully tended to Gaby’s wound. 

“Well, that takes care of those guys,” Natalia said from the backseat. “But how the hell are we going to get off this island?” she asked reading his mind. 

“By boat,” Povlovsky said. “There are docks nearby.” 

“Good idea, if we can find one big enough and fast enough to hold us all,” Natalia said.   
Sergei shook his head and pointed to Kirkoff. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”   
Solo slowed the vehicle so he could get a better look at their prisoner. His glassy eyes were wide open, staring unseeingly into the distance. Everyone turned their gaze toward Kirkoff. The bullet that grazed Gaby’s arm had met another target, piercing Kirkoff center mass, killing him.   
“Damn,” Solo muttered. They got Kirkoff- or his body rather, but they hadn’t managed to get the code from him. 

“He didn’t tell them,” Illya said. 

“How do you know?” Solo asked, bringing the car to a stop. 

“We asked him. If he had given them the code, he would be dead by now,” Gaby interjected. 

That was a fair point. Kirkoff was badly beaten, but he stood his ground. Solo supposed money was more important to him than his life. Without the code, the bomb the Cubans intended to build was nothing but a shell. Or it could take years for them to crack it. By then he was sure someone else hellbent on destruction would design something bigger and deadlier. Isn’t that how the world worked anyway? Hopefully, he’d fulfill his sentence by then. 

“Alright,” he said putting the car back into drive. “We’ll leave the body. Find a boat and hopefully get a signal out to Waverly.” 

Illya peeled off his jacket and placed it over Kirkoff’s face. The car was silent as Solo drove the last few miles to a boating dock. When they arrived the lights were out, casting everything into deep shadows. Solo parked the car off to the side of the road where the bushes were thick and overgrown. He climbed out of the jeep first, leading the way. They were looking for a boat that would get them out of there as quickly and silently as possible. 

“This one,” Illya said heading toward a Starcraft docked close by. 

Solo shook his head and motioned for the team to keep moving. “No. That boat isn’t fast enough.”

“It has good mileage,” Illya argued. 

“But what good is mileage if we’re going at a snail’s pace?” Solo groused. 

“If I drive, we won’t go at snail’s pace.”

“First off, you don’t drive a boat. You pilot it,” Solo corrected the Soviet Spy. 

“Oh, will you two just!” Gaby and Natalia and exclaimed at the same time. 

“We’ll take that boat there,” Solo nodded toward a Glastron. 

Illya shook his head. “Fine,” he conceded. “If you want low mileage.”

Solo rolled his eyes. He was no expert on boats, but he was pretty sure the Glastron would get the job done. They needed to get off that island as quickly as possible. Solo climbed in first with Natalia’s father close behind him. He assisted the frail man into the boat before turning to help Natalia and Gaby. Illya got in last and began unhitching the boat from the dock. Solo placed his hand under the lip of the dashboard and felt around for the key. Sometimes boat owners kept spares somewhere on the boat. After a few minutes of searching, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a penlight. 

“What is hold up?” Illya whispered from the aft of the boat. 

“No key.” 

“I told you we should have taken the other one,” Illya snarked. 

Solo continued to feel around with the light as his guide. He stuck his head beneath the wheel and searched the floor of the boat. A small bump protruded from beneath the plastic mat. The spy carefully peeled it up to expose the key. 

“And I told you we’ve got the right boat,” Solo replied showing them all the key. He put it into the ignition and turned it. The boat came to life instantly. Relief flooded the team as Solo navigated it away from the dock toward the open waters. 

“Are you alright, papa?” Natalia asked her father. She looked around the small boat for a blanket and placed it around his shoulders. The old man nodded and rested his head on her shoulder wearily. 

Solo nodded his head toward her. He was glad they were able to rescue Natalia’s father successfully. He thought about Kirkoff’s body in the back of the jeep. Waverly wanted them to bring him in alive, but sometimes things didn’t always go to plan. The most important thing was they all made it out alive. He’d call the mission a success. 

++++

Illya sat down beside Gaby. He discarded his disguise as soon as they were safely on the boat and went to find her a first aid kit. “Show me your arm,” he said to her. Gaby peeled back her fingers to reveal the surface wound. Illya stared at the red exposed flesh before his eyes met hers again. When he realized the bullet had hit her, for a few short moments all his worst fears had come to the surface. He imagined her body lying in the back of the jeep. Illya didn’t fear much, but the thought of losing Gaby made him terribly afraid. 

“It’s just a scratch,” Gaby said hoarsely. 

It was more than scratch, but it wouldn’t require any stitches. If the wound healed correctly, there would only be a faint scar. Illya liked the brave front she was putting on for him. He’d seen the fear in eyes when it happened. Illya began to dress her wound. He cleaned it with alcohol making her flinch beneath his touch. Gaby gritted her teeth and continued to stare at the dark waters that surrounded them. 

“It’s done,” he said. His tone was gentle. 

Gaby looked down at her fresh bandages. “Thanks,” she murmured. 

Illya nodded his head. “You were strong. I like my woman strong.” His words echoed back to their first mission in Italy. 

“Except, I’m not your woman,” Gaby said looking him in the eye. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.” 

Illya was silent for a moment as he studied the pinched expression on her face. She was right. He didn’t have to pretend anymore. “I won’t,” he said firmly. 

Illya placed his hands at Gaby’s waist and gathered her close. Her lips parted into a slight ‘oh’ of surprise. Without further hesitation, Illya covered her mouth with his in a hungry kiss. She responded immediately, melting into his arms. Illya’s hands gently caressed her back as he deepened the kiss. Her lips were soft and pliant. Gaby threaded her hands through his hair and pressed herself against him. After a few moments, they pulled away for some air. He studied the dreamy expression on Gaby’s face and dipped his head for another kiss. His lips were about to touch hers again when Solo’s voice broke through the hazy fog in his brain. 

“I see you two have finally gotten to it,” Napoleon said from the front of the boat. 

“What? Got to what? What did I miss?” Natalia asked groggily beside her father. 

“Peril finally stopped beating around the bush and made his move. I could hear the smacking all the way up here.” 

“Oh. It’s about time,” Natalia said and closed her eyes again. “Congratulations.” 

Illya looked between Natalia and Solo. He started to respond to his partner’s glib comments when the boat suddenly came to halting stop in the middle of the ocean. The engine spurted then went silent. Solo turned around and began fiddling with controls. They were out of gas. 

“I told you,” Illya said. 

Solo pressed his lips together and began tapping on the boat’s display panel. The engine was completely dead. They were stranded. 

“What’s going on now?” Natalia said, sitting up again. 

“Cowboy picked wrong boat,” Illya explained. “We are stranded in middle of ocean.” 

“Now, we don’t know that. It might need a jump,” Solo said in his defense. 

“Right, and who’s going to give it to us?” Gaby asked. 

“Good thing I put tracker in all our shoes.” Illya’s voice brimmed with pride. 

“Hopefully it’ll have a good signal this far out at sea,” Solo said. 

“It does. Russian Tracker always has good signal.”

Solo rolled his eyes and sat down beside Natalia and her father. Illya was glad he had the foresight to put trackers on all of them just in case. He was starting to learn after months of working with Solo, a fail-safe was always a necessary precaution. 

“What do we do now?” Gaby asked Illya as he settled down beside her. 

“We wait.” 

Gaby looked up at Illya with a soft sparkle in her eyes. Even though their moment was ruined by Cowboy, he didn’t regret kissing her. He only wished for better timing. Next time, Illya thought to himself. He settled down beside Gaby again at the back of the boat. “Are you cold?” he asked when he saw her shiver.

“Yes. Now come and keep your woman warm.” she said, and to his surprise, she took his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder before resting her cheek against his chest. Illya smiled in the darkness. He hoped Waverly wasn’t in too much of a hurry to rescue them.


	15. One Final Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “While you all have been blowing up islands, we’ve managed to track down all but the last remaining egg. I have intel that last places it in Monaco, in the possession of The Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia.” The team groaned in unison. “A job like this should be easy for you, Solo. And you too, Natalia. Think of it as a vacation. You all have earned it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end! What a ride this has been for me as a first timer in the TMFU fandom. This was my first fic and it was such a fun introduction to the fandom for me. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I would like to thank my Beta's. Diadema, thank you for your warm welcome to the fandom and offering to be my beta after those first few rough chapters. I also want to thank Somedeepmystery who came on to help me finish up the fic. You rock! Both of you are real gems and I appreciate your help.

By mid-morning, the sun was sweltering. Solo stretched out on his back and partially hid under the boat’s dashboard to shade himself against the sun. On the other end of the boat, Illya and Gaby hid beneath his jacket. Natalia and her father took shade beneath the blanket they had found the previous night. They’d been drifting on the current for hours, waiting for Waverly and his rescue team to find them. Solo spent most of the night keeping watch in case the Cuban coast guard decided to hunt them down. 

“Are you sure about those trackers, Peril?” Solo called out from his hiding spot. 

“Give it time, Cowboy. He will find us.” 

Solo hoped so. They were out in the middle of the ocean with no food or water. He glanced over at Natalia and her father. The man was already on his last leg. “Everything alright over there, Nat?” he asked. 

“We’re fine. Aren’t we Papa?” She looked down at her father and smiled lovingly. Sergei nodded his head. A faint smile formed on his lips as he rested his head against the back of his seat. 

“Why don’t we move him under here,” Solo suggested to Natalia. “There’s more shade. It might be cooler.” 

Natalia started to protest. Solo lifted his brow and shook his head. The offer was non-negotiable. He would be alright in the sun. It would be tragic if they came all this way to rescue her father only to have him die of a heat stroke. Solo got to his feet and helped Natalia move her father to his old spot. The old man panted gratefully for the meager bit of shade. Natalia gripped her father’s hand and gazed up at Solo with a worried expression on her face. Any minute now, Waverly, he thought to himself. They were all thirsty and exhausted from the sun. 

“Not your typical Caribbean vacation,” he tried for some levity. 

Natalia's lips turned up into a wan smile as she followed him back to where she’d been sitting with her father. “As far as vacations go, I’ve had better.” 

“Then I owe you one of those little coconuts with an umbrella.” 

“And a lot of alcohol,” Natalia added. 

Solo liked the idea of the two of them sitting on a secluded beach somewhere sipping rum from coconuts. In fact, he liked the idea may be a little too much. Solo didn’t like to form attachments. When people got too close, things tended to get messy. He stole a furtive glance at Natalia. He had a feeling that with her things could get messy. 

“I think I see a shark,” Gaby said. She sat up with a start and wrapped her fingers around Illya’s bicep. 

“It’s probably a dolphin,” Natalia assured her.

Solo looked over the side of the boat and peered into the water. “Well, if it is a shark, as long as we stay calm, we should be alright.”

Gaby looked up at Illya for comfort. Illya wrapped his arm around Gaby’s shoulder and helped her settle back against his chest. “I’ll keep you safe, little chop shop,” he whispered against her temple. 

Solo lifted a brow at his partners tender moment and shook his head. “Don’t get too comfortable,” he warned. “It looks like our rescue party has arrived.” From a distance Solo saw a black dot in the sky making its way toward their boat. 

“Oh, thank God!” Natalia stood up and shielded her eyes against the blazing sun so she could see for herself. “It’s about time. Papa wake up,” Natalia said as she moved toward her father.

Solo looked at Illya from across the boat. “Good work, Peril.” 

++++

Gaby combed her fingers through her damp hair. It felt like ages since she had a hot shower. She slipped on a borrowed Navy jumpsuit and did the best she could to make the oversized uniform fit. After spending hours floating in a small boat in the middle of the ocean, Gaby was grateful that Waverly managed to get them on the naval ship. They were sailing somewhere between Cuba and the Florida Keys. Gaby rolled the trouser legs above her ankles and slid into the shoes she wore the night before. She could still taste Illya’s lips and feel the strength of his embrace. It was better than she had imagined it would be. A knock at the door startled her out of her reverie. 

“Who is it?” She asked, pressing her ear against the heavy steel door. 

“It’s me.” 

Gaby bit back a smile and opened the door for Illya. The Russian spy was standing on the other side wearing an identical jumper and holding a tray of food. Gaby looked him over from head to toe. His hair seemed brighter and his skin was slightly pink from sitting under the sun for so long. He smelled like soap and the sea. 

“I brought you food,” he said in his usual clipped tone. 

Gaby stepped aside to let him in her room. She watched as Illya carefully laid the tray of soup, and bread, on the table. He even brought her a glass of milk. “Thank you.” 

“The soup is good. Eat. You need your strength.” 

Gaby smiled and took a seat at the table. An awkward silence filled the air between them. Ugh, not again, she thought to herself. They spent months dancing around each other. Last night they had taken a step forward. She didn’t want to take two steps back. “Illya,” Gaby began. 

“I want to talk about last night,” Illya rushed. His blue eyes bore into hers. 

“You aren’t going to change your mind already?” she asked cautiously.

Illya made a surprised face. “No. Are you?” 

Gaby shook her head. “No. Why would I?” 

“Then it’s settled.” 

“Okay,” she said. Gaby’s lips twitched into a small smile.

She reached for her spoon only to have Illya cover her hand with his. His fingers curled around hers and gently tugged her toward him until she was sitting on his lap. They stared at each other for a few moments before her lips met his for another kiss. 

++++

Waverly cleared his throat and looked around the small room he was given for the meeting with his team. They all looked a bit rough for wear, but he was proud of them. Even though they lost Kirkoff, he was almost certain the German scientist had not given the code to the Cubans. 

“Has everyone eaten?” Waverly asked the room. Everyone nodded. A smile of satisfaction spread across his cheeks. “Very good. I’ll keep this brief. I’m sure Natalia would like to spend more time with her father.” 

The older man was down in the infirmary recovering from dehydration and a heat stroke. The doctors on board the ship were taking good care of him, but Waverly recognized the anxious energy in the air. She wanted to get back to her father. He couldn’t blame her. 

“I read Illya’s report. Thank you for getting that to me so quickly by the way,” Waverly said to the Russian Spy. 

“Gaby helped.” Illya looked down at Gaby while he spoke. 

Waverly studied the pair for a moment and lifted a brow. _Ah, so they finally opened their eyes,_ Waverly thought to himself. _I’ll have to speak to them about that eventually._ “Very nice. Teamwork. That’s what I like to see. You all working together as a team.” Waverly looked around the room again and was met with blank stares. “Anyhow, I looked over the report and I must say, you all did surprisingly well.” 

“ _Surprisingly_?” Solo asked. 

“Given the circumstances, yes. The island is still in chaos thanks to you and the CIA.” Waverly paused. “Good thinking calling in backup, Solo.” Napoleon leaned back in his chair and grinned. “But don’t start patting yourselves on the back too soon. We’ve got some unfinished business to attend to.” 

“What?” Gaby sat up in her chair. “The Cubans don’t have the code. The bomb is useless.”

“Right. But there’s that pesky problem with the other eggs.” 

“Right,” Solo said on a frustrated sigh. “The other eggs.” 

“While you all have been blowing up islands, we’ve managed to track down all but the last remaining egg. I have intel that last places it in Monaco, in the possession of The Crown Prince of Saudi Arabia.” The team groaned in unison. “A job like this should be easy for you, Solo. And you too, Natalia. Think of it as a vacation. You all have earned it.” 

“Right. Maybe there’ll be fewer people shooting at us this time,” Gaby said. 

“Possibly.” Waverly flashed her a cheery smile. He was confident that the next phase of their mission would be an easy one for them. They faced bigger challenges and more dangerous obstacles in the past. “Alright, let’s get to it,” he said before laying out their plan of action. 

++++

Monte Carlo, Monaco 

The job was done. Waverly had been right about the ease of the mission. Although it was a one-person job, Natalia and Solo worked together to steal and replace the last egg with a fake. Once it was retrieved, the plan was to report back to Waverly immediately. 

“Here’s to another mission complete,” Solo said holding up a whiskey glass for a toast. They were all standing around a bar inside the casino hotel’s guest restaurant. 

“Cheers to that.” Gaby clinked her glass of champagne with his before turning toward Illya so they could do the same. 

Natalia smiled and took a small sip from her glass. She wanted to celebrate, but the clock was ticking on her freedom. Every passing minute brought her closer to INTERPOL. The last time she’d spoken to Waverly about it, the deal he brokered for her included no less than fifteen years working as an agent in their field division. She supposed it could be a lot worse. With all the criminal charges she managed to rack up over the years, she should be under the jail. Natalia glanced over at Solo. He was in the same position as she was, and he managed to do well for himself. 

She was going to miss him. The realization stunned her at first, but it was the truth. She would miss everyone, but the thought of never seeing Napoleon again saddened her. She reflected on their conversation about coconuts and beaches. It was a nice fantasy. But it was just wishful thinking on both their parts. 

Natalia thought about running. How easy would it be for her to slip away like a thief in the night? She could change her name and her appearance as often as she needed to. But then she would spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder. Her agreement with INTERPOL allowed her to visit her father when she could, and he would be well taken care of. She thought about how small and frail he looked down in the infirmary and later in his hospital bed in Miami. Waverly managed to use his magic to get Sergei political asylum in the U.S. 

He was safe now and his doctors said he would recover soon. Natalia was grateful for all the doctors and nurses that paid special attention to him. She stole another glance of Solo. He never left her side the entire night they spent in that hospital room together. She was grateful for him, too. 

“Waverly will be expecting us soon,” Illya reminded them. 

Natalia smiled. He is a KGB through and through, she thought to herself. Natalia studied Gaby for a moment. She had a feeling that the little German mechanic would soften him up a bit. She wished them well. 

“Relax, Peril. It’s our last night in paradise. Let’s enjoy ourselves for once,” Solo said just as their hostess called out for “ _Tío_ ” party of four. 

Natalia finished her drink quickly and linked her arms with Solo 

++++

Napoleon held the diamond-encrusted egg in the palm of his hands and admired the craftsmanship. His fingers traced over each jewel as he imagined the price, he could get for it. Ten years ago, Solo wouldn’t have hesitated at selling the small fortune in his hands. He would rather sell it now than hand it over to Waverly only for it to collect dust in some evidence locker somewhere. 

“You’re not getting any ideas, are you?” Natalia asked. Her lips brushed his ears when she spoke.

“And what ideas are those?” 

Natalia let out a sultry laugh and kissed each of his shoulder blades. She rested her cheek on his back again. “The same idea I’m having.”

“You’re thinking about playing a round of golf, too?” he teased. 

Natalia bit him gently on his shoulder making him smile. Solo enjoyed their closeness and the feel of her body, warm and naked on top of his back. She’d gone back on her rule again, but he didn’t mind. If there was anyone he was willing to break rules for, it was Natalia. Solo hadn’t allowed himself to get this close to a woman in years. There was a lot to be said for being unattached. But Natalia… she made him question that life sometimes. _It would never work out between us anyway, Solo. Don’t start getting soft now,_ he scolded himself. 

“It really is a shame,” she said, echoing his earlier thoughts. She reached around him and ran her index finger over a diamond. “One of these is worth a fortune.”

“Believe me, I know. I’ve already done the math several times.” He looked at the clock on the side of the bed. “Illya should have made the call to Waverly by now.” 

Natalia sighed and laid her head back down again. “And we could be on a beach somewhere right now with our coconuts.” 

Solo chuckled and caught her hand in his. He kissed her knuckles before placing the egg on the nightstand beside the bed. If it was gone in the morning along with her, he wouldn’t be terribly upset. “Ten to fifteen years isn’t a very long time,” Solo reminded her. 

Natalia laughed without humor. “But in our line of work…” 

“You’ll be fine,” he assured her. “And when we’ve served our time, there’ll be a beach with our names on it.” 

“And a house with one of those cute little docks,” she said, joining him in the fantasy. 

“I’ll bring the rum and coconuts.” 

Natalia sighed. “It’s a nice dream. But this isn’t a fairytale. Some girls don’t get to live happily ever after with their prince.” 

In one swift movement, Solo rolled them so that he was looking down at her. He saw the worry in her eyes. Solo wished there was something that he could do to ease it for her. He complained about his time with the CIA and U.N.C.L.E., but it wasn’t as bad as he made it out to be. There were times when it was fun. Fifteen years seemed like an eternity for people like Natalia and himself. But fifteen years was really just a drop in the bucket. Solo gazed into her dark eyes. Maybe the picture they painted was a fantasy, but it was nice to have something to look forward to. 

“No, they don’t,” he agreed. “But princes are overrated anyway.” 

++++

Illya whistled a jaunty, Russian folk song he hadn’t thought of since before his father was shipped to the gulag. Bright sunlight filtered in his hotel room as he packed his bags. His conversation with Waverly the night before had been brief, but the deed was done. They’d gotten the egg and saved the world… again. He thought about ordering breakfast but wondered if Cowboy and Natalia wanted to join them downstairs. Illya picked up the phone and started to dial when he was interrupted by a knock at his door. 

Illya tread along the carpet with light feet toward the door. Did someone make us? He knew they should have left as soon as they retrieved the egg. The Russian Spy reached for the gun he stored in the table by the door and peeped through the hole. Relief spread through him when he saw Waverly on the other side. 

“Waverly,” he greeted his commander. “This is unexpected.”

“Kuryakin,” Waverly said stepping inside the suit. “Well, I thought this would be an opportune time to wrap things up.” Illya put the gun down and glanced around his hotel room. 

“Can you tell Ms. Teller, I’m here,” Waverly said while looking out the window. At that moment, Gaby emerged from the bathroom in a robe and yelped. “Good morning to you too, Gaby,” he said cheerily. 

Gaby looked at Illya with wide eyes before dashing back into the bathroom. Illya cleared his throat and looked away. “I think she knows you are here.” 

Waverly smiled and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Very good. We’ll be debriefing in Solo’s room shortly. Perhaps we can all have a little bonfire again,” he said with a wink before leaving Illya alone in the room. 

Once the door closed behind him, Gaby stuck her head out the bathroom door. “Is he gone?” she whispered. 

Illya gave her a curt nod. “He wants to see us in Cowboy’s room.” 

“I’ll get dressed. But first,” she said crossing the room toward him. “there’s this,” she said before kissing him gently on the lips. 

++++

They all wanted to see Natalia off. She had become part of the team. The Russian cat burglar was one of them now. Solo glanced around the somber patio table where they all sat waiting with her. Napoleon was going to miss her shrewd sense of humor and wit. 

He was going to miss her. 

INTERPOL moved fast. As soon as Waverly reported the mission was complete, they had agents ready to take her in. He remembered that process like it was yesterday. He asked Waverly if there was any way that she could stay on. After all, he managed to finagle him away from the CIA and Illya from the KGB. Anything was possible. 

“Sorry, Solo. Even I don’t have that much power,” Waverly said to him before sadly clapping him on the back. 

Napoleon glanced at Natalia just in time to see her give him a weak smile. He nodded his head and tried to tell her with his eyes that she was going to be fine. Maybe with good behavior, they might commute her service. 

“They’re here,” Waverly said, interrupting his thoughts. 

A black car pulled up outside the hotel. Solo stood up first, followed by the rest of the table. He squinted in the sunlight and watched as three agents filed out of the black sedan together. Solo wrapped his arm around Natalia’s waste to comfort her. 

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered in her ear. She nodded her head and gave him a wan smile. 

“Alexander.” An older man with a head full of grey hair greeted them. He extended his hand to give Waverly a shake.

“Nicholas. Good to see you.” Waverly gave him a polite smile. 

“And same to you as always.” He turned away from Waverly and smiled at Natalia. “You must be Natalia Povlovsky. “I’m Special Agent Nicholas Kent,” he introduced himself. "Your photos don’t do you any justice. 

“Yes, well, she’s been a great asset to the team,” Waverly interjected. “And I’m sure she’ll make a fine agent with INTERPOL.” 

Nicholas glanced back at Waverly. “Of course. I trust your word, Alex. You haven’t failed me in… oh, how long has it been? Ah, it doesn’t matter,” he said waving his hand. “I’m glad you all made out so nicely. I read the report. This was a good practice exercise for you, Ms. Povlovsky. Or may I call you Natalia?” 

“Ms. Povlovsky is fine,” she said with a curt smile. 

Nicholas shrugged and winked at Waverly. “They always warm up eventually. Isn’t that right, Mr. Solo?” Solo’s lips spread into a thin line. “It’s a pity the CIA got to you first. Then you came and stole him right out from underneath them, eh?” Nicholas said while air jabbing toward Waverly. 

“What can I say. I have a good eye for talent,” Waverly said. 

“That you do.” Nicholas looked at the rest of the team and nodded. “Well, if you don’t mind, I think Ms. Povlovsky and I should head out. You know how processing can be.” He turned toward Natalia again. “Ma’am.” 

Natalia looked back at her team. She grabbed her purse from the table and paused in front of Waverly. “You have an excellent team, Waverly. Don’t be too hard of them,” she said before giving him a brief hug. 

Gaby took Natalia’s hand and squeezed it between hers while Illya gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder. She smiled at both her partners before turning away to follow Nicholas back to his car. Solo felt a dull pain in his chest as she walked away from him without even a goodbye. He started to turn away when Illya gently grabbed his arm to stay him. Solo watched as Natalia paused and said something to Nicholas before turning back to walk toward him.

“Natalia,” Solo said once she was close enough to touch. She kissed him before he could say more. Solo wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss. 

“This isn’t goodbye,” she said when the kiss ended. “I’ll see you again in ten to fifteen years.” 

“It’s a date. I’ll bring the rum.”

Natalia shook her head. “Let’s make that vodka. And I’ll bring it.” She touched his cheek gently before turning away once again. 

The team watched as Natalia climbed into the back of the sedan and disappeared inside. Solo stood until the car was swallowed by the Monte Carlo traffic. 

Waverly placed a hand on his back. “She is quite a remarkable woman,” he said.

Solo stuffed his hands in his pocket and nodded. “That she is,” he agreed somberly. Solo looked out into the distance one final time before turning around to see Illya and Gaby waiting for them back at the table. 

Illya handed Solo a drink. “You did good, Cowboy,” he complimented Solo and touched his glass with his partner’s. 

“I never thought I’d say it this many times on one mission, but you too, Peril. You too.” 

Waverly clapped his hands together with delight. “Well, isn’t this lovely. I’m so glad you all are getting along so famously because I have another mission for you.” Everyone paused and turned to look at him. 

“Please tell me it’s someplace warm,” Gaby said. 

Waverly laughed. “I’m sure we can find a warm spot in the Ukraine. That’s where our next target might be located.” 

“And they are?” Solo asked. 

“Oh, I might have mentioned them before. THRUSH.” 

Solo took a drink and turned toward the rest of his team. “I told you we could have held off on contacting Waverly right away.” 

Alexander smiled and watched as they all started bickering with each other. “I think I might have spoken too soon.”

The End.


End file.
